


What You Do Today

by Somniare



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Birthday, Children, Christmas, Declarations Of Love, Easter, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Lent, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, New Year's Day, New Year's Eve, Oral Sex, Plans, Presents, Promises, Relationship(s), Truths, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:25:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somniare/pseuds/Somniare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today is only one day in all the days that will ever be.  But what will happen in all the other days that ever come can depend on what you do today.<br/>Ernest Hemingway, <i>For Whom The Bell Tolls</i></p>
<p>Relationships take time, and we don’t always see what’s right in front of us.  As the events of the year unfold, Robbie and James learn a bit more about each other and what that means for their future.  </p>
<p>Sometimes you have to make an effort, and sometimes things just fall into place.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>One teeny warning:  tiny passing reference to a child abuse case resulting in death</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Penitent Man

**Author's Note:**

> **Original artwork by subluxate:** [In Harmony - a fanmix - on Dreamwidth](http://gonerunningaway.dreamwidth.org/18436.html)  
>  Thank you for your wonderful work.
> 
>  
> 
> I must give grateful thanks and acknowledgement to three very important people: 
> 
> tetsubinatu, who gave invaluable advice and hand-holding for a key scene early in the writing process;
> 
> lygtemanden, who boldy took on the task of Brit-picking and beta reading the first draft, picking up a fairly significant inconsistency in one character's response to a particular situation; and
> 
> wendymr, who betaed the second draft and provided sound advice and con-crit that not only benefited this story but all future stories as well.
> 
> You are all wonderful and this story would not be what it is without your help, advice and support.
> 
>  
> 
> To my 'test audience' - you know who you are - thank you for your positive feedback and encouragement when I was beginning to doubt my own words.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Thank God, this week’s over,” Inspector Robbie Lewis groaned as he struggled into his coat.  He’d be glad when the cold started to loosen its grip.  A soft strangled noise drew his attention to James who was at full stretch in his chair – long, lean limbs pushed out in opposite directions, and a yawn big enough to drive a bus through.  Lewis waited until James was slumped back over his keyboard, wearily rubbing his face.

“Pint, James?”  No response.  “Hathaway, Earth calling Sergeant Hathaway.”

James let his head roll backwards slowly, and blinked lazily at his Governor.  “Sorry?”

“I asked if you fancied a pint – my shout.” 

James raised his eyebrows in mock disbelief.  _It had better be bloody mock_ , thought Robbie.

“As tempting as the offer is, I, er, I can’t.  Sorry.”  James looked apologetic and focused back on his monitor.

Robbie watched as James’s eyes dropped shyly to the keyboard and – was he blushing?  “I hope they appreciate what they have,” Robbie said quietly.

“ _What?_ ”  James frowned at the seeming randomness of Robbie’s comment.

Robbie sighed, concentrating on buttoning his coat.  “Whoever it is who’s captured your attention – I hope they appreciate what they have.  Third night this week you’ve knocked back a pint with your Governor; I’m beginning to feel unloved.”

James’s jaw worked furiously, but no sound came out.  Robbie was amused – a flustered, speechless Hathaway was a rare and endearing sight.

“It’s not like that; it’s just, that is to say...”  He coughed once, harshly.  “I’ve giddy-up fallen,” he mumbled.

Robbie’s hands froze on the last button.  “You’ve _what?_ Want to put your teeth back in and try again, man?”

James slumped back in his chair with a heavy sigh.  “I’ve given it up for Lent... sir.”

Robbie blinked.

James scowled.

“Then I’ll buy you a nice single malt.”

“All alcohol, not just beer.”

“Then I’ll buy you all the tonic water on the rocks you want – you like a bit of ‘spurious glamour’.”

“Now you’re just mocking me, _sir_.”  James folded his arms tightly across his chest and slouched further down in his seat.

Robbie perched on the edge of his desk, his voice kinder.  “It’s never bothered you before; you didn’t knock back an invite – or a tonic water – when you did that detox thingy-whatsit after your rather… memorable New Year celebration.”

James cringed at the memory, sighed, and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling.  “This is different.”

“If it’s such a hardship, why are you doing it?  Seems a bit daft.”

“That’s the whole point.  It’s a form of penance.”

“Form of bloody torture, if you ask me.  Why didn’t you give up cigarettes instead – that’d make more blasted sense.”

“Tried that last year – the pen?”

Robbie snorted.  He remembered _that_ very clearly.  James had walked around for over a week with an old pen clenched between his teeth, until the day he sucked too hard on the end; it took another week for the bright blue stain in the corner of his mouth to fade. 

“So that was Lent.”  He nodded, stopping to look at James quizzically.  “But... you were smoking soon after that, so, what, you didn’t do the whole thing?”

“No.  But that was my choice, so it didn’t really bother anyone else at the end of the day.  _However_ , this year I’ve promised Father Andrew…”  He looked across at Robbie and shrugged.  “And a promise is a promise.”

Robbie waited.  He knew there was more to this than James was saying; the question was – how much would James reveal?

James squirmed.  “Father Andrew witnessed my New Year... revelry.  To say he was disappointed was an understatement – compared to him, you were amused.  This is a step towards…”  He puffed out a sigh.  “…getting back into his good graces.”

_New Year had been a touchy topic between James and Robbie.  James had been rostered off for New Year, as his band was performing on New Year’s Eve and both Innocent and Robbie wanted him to have the opportunity to enjoy himself afterwards.  At seven in the morning on New Year’s Day, to his horror and disbelief, Robbie had found James passed out in the driver’s seat of his car, in front of Robbie’s flat, and hauled him inside to sleep it off.  Robbie had arrived home that evening to find a very contrite James, a spotless flat, and dinner cooking on the stove top.  It hadn’t stopped him reading James the riot act on appropriate behaviour for a police officer, drink-driving, and self-preservation.  James, mortified and unable to remember the countdown to midnight or getting into his car, had borne the tirade without argument or attempting to mount a defence._

_“James, promise me it’ll never – ever – happen again and we’ll put it behind us.  You were bloody lucky no-one else found you, and no-one got hurt.”  He didn’t tell James he’d checked his car over for any signs he’d been in an accident.  Robbie’s disappointment always affected James more than any bollocking could ever do.  His sorrow and remorse were etched in his face and body language and Lewis had forgiven him.  “You ever feel the need to get that drunk again – for whatever reason – you come round to mine before you start.  I’ll try to talk you out of it, but if I can’t at least I’ll know where you are; I’ll know you’re safe, and I’ll be able to stop you before you pickle that big brain of yours.”  James had made the promise and Robbie knew James didn’t make promises lightly._

“Maybe I could have a word with Father Andrew...?”  Robbie offered.  James looked up in horror.  “...or maybe not,” Robbie drawled.  James looked ill.  “James?”  James winced at the concern in his voice.

“You really _don’t_ want to know.  Nothing...  no, you don’t...”  James was scarlet and seemed to shrink under the heaviness of the ensuing silence.  Outside their door, the office had emptied and the night was drawing in.  Neither moved nor spoke.

Staring downwards, Robbie exhaled heavily.  “I owe you an apology, lad.”  Out of the corner of his eye he saw James’s head flick upward to look at him.  Robbie lifted his head slowly and made eye contact, certain he looked as guilty as he felt. 

James frowned.  “Sir?”

“Father Andrew called me in January, when you were away in Birmingham with the band.  He told me what he… how he found you, and how you fled.  He thought I should know.”  James went paler than Robbie thought possible and Robbie paused, briefly debating with himself.  “He told me you talked to him about me – a lot.  He said, ‘James listens to you and trusts you’.”

James was frozen to his chair, on the edge of full-blown panic.  It was a look Robbie had seen all too often, usually on the faces of those who had suddenly realised their carefully woven web of lies had been torn apart.

“You know?” James breathed.  “You’ve known all this time – and you’ve said nothing?”

Robbie’s heart ached at the anguish on James’s face.  “There was nothing _to_ say, James.”  James was shaking his head slowly in disbelief.  “James – it’s none of my business.  And nothing’s changed, not to me.  You’re the same James Hathaway who walked out of here early on New Year’s Eve, the same James I’ve walked beside and trusted for years.  You are who you’ve always been.  Aren’t you?”

 

 

James just stared.  Here was his Governor – straight as an arrow, married twenty-plus years, father of two, and highly respected senior police officer, Robert Lewis – the one person whose respect James sought above all others, telling him that the fact that he knew James had been caught _in flagrante delicto_ with another man changed nothing.  James wanted to run and hide and couldn’t work out why his legs wouldn’t take him. 

“You never said… I…”  James stammered, visibly shaking.  “Just so you know, I don’t...  I knew – _know –_ him...  we’ve...  before...”  James spluttered.  “I’m not gay, not completely; I like women too, I just prefer...”

“James…”  Lewis walked over and sat on the edge of James’s desk.  His voice was patient and kind.  “ _It doesn’t matter to me_.  It didn’t matter in the past, it doesn’t matter now.  You are who you are.  And to me you’re a good copper – you’re a bloody excellent copper, one of the best – and, most importantly, you’re me best mate,” he stressed.

Lewis gently laid his hand, cool and steady, on James’s shoulder.  “The drinking mattered, the drink-driving mattered, the ‘what you’re seen to do in public’ mattered – and I gave you a right bollocking for those – the rest, no.  Not to me.”

James’s head dropped, and he closed his eyes and concentrated on the comforting pressure of Lewis’s hand.  He no longer felt as though his heart was going to break his ribs, but he still couldn’t decide whether to stay or flee.

 

 

“What you do in your free time, as long as it doesn’t affect your work, doesn’t hurt you or bring harm to another...”  Robbie kept his hand still, the temptation to massage James’s shoulder held at bay.  “Even knowing – it hasn’t upset us has it – please tell me I haven’t treated you any differently between then and now?”

James considered the question far longer than Robbie expected him to.

“I’ve had dinner at yours most nights, and slept on your couch several times a week, far more than before, case or no case.”  James looked at Robbie, a scowl forming.  “And you’ve let me chose what we watch _and_ actually watched it without complaint – so I’d say, _yes_ , you _have_ treated me differently.”

“James, I never meant...”

“I thought perhaps you were doing it because...  you were keeping an eye on me, weren’t you?” James accused, pushing himself backwards just out of Robbie’s reach.

“No, not keeping...”  Robbie became defensive.  “You never had to accept any of the invitations; it’s not like we’d been working day and night on any case.  I just wanted...”  His voice trailed off and he sighed heavily.  “Okay, yes, maybe it started that way, but I... I liked having you there.  And then this week you started knocking me back, and I wondered...”

James glanced away.  “Oh.  You thought I was seeing...”

Robbie nodded sheepishly. 

 

 

The fight – and flight – left James.  It really _was_ going to be okay.  He should have known; Lewis had said it directly and obliquely in so many ways since Will and Feardorcha and The Garden.  _He thought I was ditching him for Alan and he let me have that space, without question._ James realised that Lewis’s gentle prodding wasn’t just because he was concerned about James; he was saddened because he thought that, for whatever reason, James hadn’t felt secure enough in their friendship to give him some explanation for suddenly not wanting to spend time with him. 

Lewis gently lifted James’s chin, his thumb resting near the corner of James’s mouth.  “So... what _have_ you been doing the past two nights you knocked me back?”

James was surprised by the intimacy of Lewis’s touch but dismissed it as a product of his relief.  “Went home.  Read a bit.  Played guitar a bit.  Smoked a lot.  Slept badly.”

“Can’t be having that.”  Lewis gave him an exasperated frown.  “Not having you go all elmo on me.”

James snorted.  “Emo, sir.  Elmo’s a character...”

“You knew what I meant.”  Lewis aimed a playful swipe at James’s ear.  “Come to mine?  I need you to make bad telly bearable.  Curry and all the tonic water on the rocks you can handle.  Though we’ll have to stop at Tesco’s on the way to the Indian.”  James raised his eyebrows questioningly.  Robbie grinned at him.  “I’m all out of ‘spurious glamour’.”

 

*****

 

James dropped onto the couch as Lewis came through with fresh drinks – a strong brew for two.  
  
“You don’t have to do this you know.  You shouldn’t have to suffer because I am.”  
  
“I’d be suffering more sitting here on me own night after bloody night, with no-one making snarky comments, or pointing out when the narration’s wrong.  And the thought of making me own coffee _every_ morning’s a bit too depressing.”   
  
“So I’m the lesser of two evils, then,” James remarked dryly.  
  
“Steady now, lad, I didn’t say that.  You’ve put yourself through the wringer before to help me; s’only fair I support you where I can.”  
  
James took the offered mug.  “Thank you, s– Robbie.”  James smiled shyly at the pleased grin from Robbie; he’d been at him for ages to drop the ‘sir’ when they were off-duty – tonight was the first time James felt truly comfortable doing so.  
  
  
  
They sat back, only half focused on the telly.  Robbie had turned off all bar one lamp, and the dim light and low volume were soothing.  Robbie wanted to understand exactly what he’d ‘volunteered’ for.  “So, when did Lent start then?”  
  
“Last week, Ash Wednesday.”  
  
“And when does it stop?”  
  
“Holy Thursday.”  
  
“Remind me when’s that exactly?”  
  
“The day before Good Friday.”  
  
Robbie sat up straight.  “But that’s five bloody weeks away!”  
  
James stared at him dejectedly and nodded.  “Yup.”  He popped the ‘p’  
  
“So we’re going to be ‘dry’ until we go up to Lyn’s?  You are still coming to Lyn’s aren’t you?”  
  
A small, pleased smile settled on James’s face at _we’re._ “Yes and yes.”

 

*****

 

“So how’re we going to pass the evenings between then and now?”  Robbie, not really focused on the movie, had been quietly tossing the idea around.  
  
“I take it you mean besides takeaway, telly and questionable beverages?”  James, obviously not expecting a response, ploughed on.  “I could cook for you, you could come to band practice; I’m sure Father Andrew would take comfort from seeing you ‘keeping an eye on me’.”  The expected snark and resentment were missing, for which Robbie was quietly grateful.  James stared at the ceiling as he thought some more.  “If we get really bored we could bring home cold case files – Innocent would like that – oh, I know!”  James shot forward in his seat, eyes bright with mischief.  “We could try to get a glimpse of Mr Innocent, sit outside her place like they do in nearly every crap police show, wait...”  
  
“ ** _James!_** ”  
  
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then?”  
  
Robbie sighed.  “Ah, I’m sure we’ll think of something.  Can you really cook?”  
  
James tried his best to look offended and hurt, however, Robbie knew him too well to be taken in.  “I’m no Jamie or Nigella but I can do the basics, and a bit more.”

 

*****

 

They quickly settled into an adaptable pattern, alternating dinner at each other’s flats, depending on work and commitments.  While Robbie never slept at James’s – neither would let the other sleep on James’s couch – James always stayed at Robbie’s.  James set himself a personal mission to ensure Robbie could make something other than egg and chips, and Robbie silently vowed to initiate James into the world of John Wayne.   
  
On a quiet night near end of the third week, James, never taking his eyes from the screen where John Wayne and Dean Martin were fighting for justice, whispered, “What exactly did Father Andrew tell you?"  
  
Robbie glanced at James, noting the fixed gaze and tight jaw.  They’d agreed that it was a closed topic, though Robbie had suspected James wasn’t quite finished with it.    
  
“Do you really want me to say it?”  
  
“Yes.  I do.”  His voice was firm.  
  
“This isn’t verbatim, mind.”  James nodded.  Robbie gathered his thoughts.  “He heard noises after he believed everyone had left the concert – that was the one you were playing at?”  Another stiff nod from James.  “He went around the back of the parish hall.  You...  he saw you leaning up against the wall, and a ‘young man who was known to him' was...”  Robbie took a steadying breath as images flooded his mind, just as they’d done when Father Andrew spoke to him. “...on his knees, at your feet... 'pleasuring you with his mouth'.”  Robbie coughed sharply to cover the roughness in his voice.  “From what he overheard, you were a, a 'willing participant'.”  
  
Robbie felt, rather than saw, James shrink down lower.  He risked a quick look and was relieved to see, even through the dim light, that James was blushing as hard as he was; Robbie had to stifle a giggle at the ridiculousness of the scene.  
  
James cleared his throat.  “Is that all he said?”  Robbie didn’t think James could get any redder.  
  
“Just that – and the bit I told you before, about you listening to me.  I think he thought that meant I might have some kind of guiding influence over you.  I didn’t shatter his illusion.”  When James didn’t rise to the bait, Robbie asked cautiously, “Was there more?”  
  
James sighed.  “No.  He appeared just as...  We’d barely... Alan – that’s his name – he just wanted to... get into it.”  
  
Something in James’s tone puzzled Robbie.  “You sound disappointed.”  
  
James exhaled heavily.  “Alan and I saw each other for a while a couple of years ago – you were seeing a bit of Dr Hobson at the time.”  Robbie thought James looked jealous, but of course, that was ridiculous, _he’s never shown any interest in Laura before and he certainly couldn’t be wanting... could he?_   Robbie forced himself to focus on James’s words.  “It... It had been a while since... anyone and we’d had... I thought naively that we might pick up where we left off, that there’d be kissing and... all the rest... beforehand, but he just...  And then I did a runner, left him in the churchyard and went and got... well, you found me, you know.”  Biting his lip, he rolled his head to look at Robbie, his eyes seeking a response.  
  
“You planning on seeing him again?”   
  
James blinked, the question clearly catching him by surprise.  “I, ah.  No.”  James gazed up at the ceiling again.  “It... we...  He’s already seeing someone else.  Story of my life.”  
  
”Daft bugger then, isn’t he?  You're a good catch lad, don’t sell yourself short."  He playfully nudged a furiously blushing James.  “Tall, good health – better if you gave up the smokes – decent job, brains, not bad looking, bit mouthy though.  Never mind lad, his loss, my gain, eh?”  
  
“If I didn't know better, _sir_ ,” James drawled dryly, “I'd say you were trying to hit on me.”  
  
“If I were fifteen years younger who knows what could happen, lad?”  He nudged James again, his smile unreadable.  “More tea?”  
  
  
  
Offering his cup, James laughed, only a little uncertainly.  Robbie was clearly taking the mickey, because, well, just because.  _Get a grip James, this is Robert Lewis._


	2. Easter Surprises

By a happy quirk of rostering, James and Robbie were both due to be off for the entire Easter weekend.  In past years, both would have volunteered to work, however, Robbie had already promised Lyn he’d come up to Manchester, and James didn’t want to be teamed with another DI for the weekend.  Lyn, having spent Christmas in Oxford, had also invited James up to Manchester with her dad at the same time, but he had firmly, though politely declined.  A look from Robbie had warned Lyn against trying to coerce James; later on, Robbie promised her he’d try to sway James.  
  
In the end it was Thom, Robbie’s eighteen-month old grandson, who made James an offer he was incapable of refusing.  In late January, during one of Lyn’s regular calls to her dad, she chatted to James while Robbie was digging out a requested photo of her brother, Mark.   
  
“It’s a pity you can’t come up for Easter, James, Thom’s been jabbering about you and ‘Grumpa’ and I think he thinks you come as a pair.  He’ll be disappointed if you’re not here.”  
  
James snorted and asked if Thom would talk to him on the phone.  James and Thom had taken to each other very quickly, James listening earnestly as the young boy babbled away about Chuggington, Iggle Piggle, and Peppa Pig.  James smiled broadly at the squeal of delight when Lyn told Thom ‘Uncle James’ was on the phone.  Robbie came back at that moment and was astonished when James waved him away and held onto the phone.  
  
“Hello Thom.”  Both men grinned at the very loud giggles from the phone.  “Mummy tells me...”  There was a long pause as James listened.  “C– can you say that again please, Thom?”  
  
Robbie watched James curiously as concentration gave way to realisation and uncertainty. Very gravely, James finally spoke, “Yes, Thom, I will, I promise.  Can I talk to Mummy please?”  There was a gap as the phone changed hands at the other end and Thom’s giggles and cheers could be clearly heard.  Robbie’s face asked a question James wasn’t quite ready to answer.  “Um, yes, I did.”  James was speaking to Lyn again.  “I’ll let you tell him.”  James passed the phone to Robbie, walking away to sit on the couch.  
  
“Hello, love, I’ve got the...”  
  
“...he’s what?”  
  
“...How did...”  
  
“...Thom?”   
  
Robbie looked up to see James peeking over the back of the couch.  “Aye, I will, you can guarantee it.”  Robbie was grinning broadly and James managed a small, embarrassed smile in reply.  
  
When Robbie ended the call, he sat next to James and waited.   
  
James started to speak twice, finally turning toward Robbie with wide, sad eyes.  “Thom said, ‘Unk Jay hep me fine easser bun?’  – how the hell could I say no to that?” James implored.  
  
A slow smile lit Robbie’s face and he clapped a hand on James’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry, lad, you had no chance with an attack like that.  I’m pleased you’re coming, though.  I’ll ring the place where I’m staying, see if they’ve room for one more, yeah?  Makes sense to stay at the same place.”  Lyn and Tim were in a small two-bedroom flat, though they were on the lookout for somewhere bigger, and James had overheard several calls when Robbie was booking a place to stay.  He nodded, his Easter weekend sealed.   
  
“Sounds fine.”  He gave Robbie an appraising look.  “Did you and Lyn cook up...?”  
  
“Oh, give over, James.  Thom adores you, though God knows why.”  He gave James a gentle nudge with his elbow as he started to protest.  “Lyn says Thom’s been...”  
  
“I know, I know.”  James conceded he’d been bested by a toddler.  If that got around the station, he’d never live it down.

 

*****

 

James looked slowly around the room.  The drive up had been a nightmare; not only were the roads packed with everyone else travelling on Good Friday, two major, though thankfully non-fatal, accidents added nearly ninety minutes of waiting in traffic snarls to the journey.  James couldn’t decide what he wanted more – a shower, sleep or food.  
  
“Room all right, James?”   
  
He turned slowly towards the voice.  “Oh, ah, yeah, fine.  Do you want the bed nearest the bathroom or the door?”  
  
“Bathroom – if you’re fine with that.”  
  
“Bed’s a bed, and as long as I have my pillow I can sleep anywhere.”  
  
“Wondered why you’d brought that.”  James’s eyes had dared Robbie to say something when James had laid the large pillow carefully on the back seat.  “You never bring a pillow to my place.”  
  
“Ah, but I’m very familiar with your couch – don’t need my pillow.”  His eyes roamed around the room again.  
  
“Is it the room or the B&B itself that you don’t like?”  Robbie sounded as though he should have had his hands on his hips (he didn’t).  “And don’t tell me neither, something made your nose wrinkle.”  
  
“No really, it’s fine.  When you said ‘delightful B&B’ I had images of Laura Ashley prints and lots of frills.  This is very... tasteful.  It’s just... well it’s a bit different to what I ex– to a hotel.”   
  
Robbie nodded.  “It’ll be quieter, and there won’t be a lukewarm buffet breakfast either – full English, cooked to order, between seven and ten.”   
  
“I can see how that would appeal...”   
  
“But...”  
  
James was quick to mollify Robbie.  “It’s not that I’m not happy to share, at the end of the day it’s not that different to kipping on your couch, but... was everywhere else in Manchester booked up?”  
  
Robbie avoided making eye contact with James.  “I wouldn't know.  I'd booked and paid for the three nights here when Lyn first invited us up, and when I rang to find out about changing I found out I would have lost money cancelling, then had the palaver of finding – or perhaps not finding – somewhere else.  At the end of the day it was easier to change the booking to two adults and pay the small additional rate.  Besides, this place is close to Lyn’s.”  
  
“Oh.  Well.  I suppose, in that case, it was fortunate that they were able to swap you into a twin...  _Robbie?_ ”  Robbie had turned away from James and the back of his neck was slowly reddening.  “You booked a twin in the first place, didn’t you?”  James’s tone was curious.  
  
“Aye.”  Robbie nodded and glanced at James, relief washing over his face at James’s smile.  “I really hoped you’d change your mind.  And if you didn’t, well, I’d have somewhere else to drop me bag.  Should we think about dinner?”  
  
James grinned.  “You take the bathroom first, and I’ll go see where our hosts recommend.”

 

*****

 

Robbie woke surprisingly refreshed.  He’d discovered that James barely snored with his own pillow; Robbie was going to make sure he brought it to the flat in future.  He watched James as he slept, his face half buried in the pillow.  It was rare that he caught James asleep and seeing him completely relaxed was always calming.   James’s visible eye slowly cracked open.   
  
“S’a little... creepy when you watch me... your face is... diff’ren... dunno what you’re thinking.”  With his face pressed into the pillow, he mumbled out of one side of his mouth.  
  
“Maybe you don’t want to know.”  Robbie spoke softly as he got out bed – on the other side, so James couldn’t see his face – and headed into the bathroom.  When he came out, James was sitting on the side of the bed, bony wrists and ankles poking out of too-short pyjamas.  
  
He felt James’s eyes follow him as he moved around the room, choosing clothes for the day.  
  
“Is it a... paternal thing, when you watch me?  It’s okay, I don’t mind.  It’s nice, in a way.”  
  
Robbie didn’t answer immediately.  “Sometimes,” he said eventually, and hurried James off into the bathroom.  “They stop cooking breakfast in an hour, get a wriggle on.”  
  
  
  
James checked his watch, surprised to see how late he’d slept.  He wondered how long Robbie had been watching him, and was curious to know what Robbie thought about ‘the other times’. 

 

*****

 

They ordered their meals – fried eggs for Robbie, poached for James – and settled back in their chairs until the food arrived.  It appeared most of the other guests had opted for a late breakfast also, as there wasn’t an empty table in the dining room.  James’s eyes discreetly swept the room, taking in far more that most of the occupants would realise.  Robbie watched him frown, shift slightly forward in his seat and sweep again.   
  
“Something the matter?”  
  
“Do you realise that we are probably the only non-couple in his room?”  
  
Robbie looked properly for himself.  James was right; every table held two people – same-sex pairs and mixed pairs; there wasn’t a single or family in sight, which was more or less what he’d expected.  He wasn’t surprised James had noticed, but he was curious about his reaction.  “So everyone’s in pairs – that doesn’t make them couples.  What makes you say that, anyway?”  
  
James fixed Robbie with a look of disbelief and leant closer across the table.  “Body language.  The fact that there’s a lot of hand holding and tangling of ankles under tables – not to mention the more obvious kissing,” he murmured incredulously.  
  
“Does that bother you?  Didn’t take you for a prude.  Would you like me to hold your hand so we blend in?”  Robbie smiled wickedly at James, whose sharp breath was more the result of Robbie leaning in closer and pressing his foot against James’s than his words.  
  
It was rare that James was the exasperated one and, as he slumped back in his chair scowling at Robbie, his feet now tucked away, it was all Robbie could do not to laugh out loud at him.   
  
James’s eyebrows lowered into a deep frown.  “Exactly how did you find this place?  You don’t Google and it doesn’t feel like the sort of place Lyn would be familiar with.”  
  
“Harris.”  James looked at him quizzically.  Robbie sighed.  “Sergeant Harris.  Armed Response Unit.  Ringing any bells yet?”  
  
“Lee Harris?”  
  
“Aye, Lee.”  
  
“How did he know about this place?”  
  
“He came up for the Pride March last year, raved about this place.”  
  
“How on earth...?  Did you know he was gay – _is_ he gay?”  James spluttered and leant forward, his curiosity winning out.   
  
“Aye – to both parts of your question.”  
  
“But this place isn’t exactly... I mean... how did _you_ know?”  
  
“It’s... accepting, and that makes it popular with a range of people.  And I know because I pay attention.”  
  
“So it wouldn’t bother you if people thought we’d stayed in ‘gay-friendly’ accommodation?”  
  
“It’s not listed as gay-friendly; it _does_ say it has a zero-tolerance policy towards LGBT discrimination.  But to answer your question, no.”  Robbie sighed patiently.  “Simple fact is, here, no-one’s looked twice at us; in many other hotels, despite their policies, we’d be a... a curiosity, we’d stand out, a focus of attention, of sly whispers and sneaky glances.  I thought it would be nicer, more comfortable, here.”  
  
The waitress arrived with their meals and they both sat back, only now realising how closely they’d been leaning in to each other.   
  
James huffed a laugh, a slow grin lighting his face.  “You _were_ determined I was coming, weren’t you?”   
  
“Aye, even if I had to bloody well kidnap you.  Lyn planted the seed; she first mentioned inviting you up this year when I was up last Easter.  Then when I heard Harris down the pub talking with some of his mates about his Pride experience and this place, well, I paid attention, in case it was useful.”  
  
“You eavesdropped?” James accused, more amused that shocked, especially as Robbie started to reddened.  
  
“Well, I wasn’t going to ask him directly in the middle of the pub.  But then, when Lyn _did_ ask you up, I got Lee on his own and asked him, quiet like.  He’s a good lad, discreet; he’s had to be.”  
  
“Even though I’d declined the invitation?”  
  
“Like you said, I was determined you’d be coming.  If Thom hadn’t changed your mind, I would have found a way.”  
  
  
  
They ate in near silence.  James smiled to himself at the small noises of pleasure Robbie made as he clearly enjoyed his breakfast, and he had to admit it was good – a meal always seemed nicer when someone else had cooked it.  While he ate, James wondered just how Robbie would have convinced him to come up if Thom hadn’t charmed him.

 

*****

 

They arrived at Lyn’s in time to head out for lunch and an afternoon at the Legoland Discovery Centre, for which Lyn had bought tickets in advance.  Robbie was silently thankful that Tim had to work, as it allowed their little group to blend in more easily with the other families.  The Easter crowd was overwhelming for Thom, who only calmed down when James lifted him up on his shoulders.  
  
“Can you reach the sky, Thom?”  James pointed up high, his hand going past Thom’s head.  In response, Thom thrust his chubby fist in the air and squealed delightedly.  
  
“Thom **_in_** sky!”  
  
They were in Miniland, trying to outdo each other in identifying places and landmarks, when Robbie first realised James and Thom weren’t with them.  When Lyn also realised, Robbie could see the panic rising in her eyes.  “Calm down, pet, wherever Thom is, he’s with James, and James won’t let any harm come to him.”  
  
Lyn looked at him as though he’d gone senile.  “I know, Dad.”  She pointed at the bag she was carrying.  “But he’ll be in trouble if Thom needs changing before we find them.”   
  
Robbie tried calling James and got his voicemail both times – a highly unusual event which caused Robbie’s breathing to get a little faster.  A familiar happy squeal rang clear of the crowd noise and they found James and Thom together in the Duplo Village; Robbie put a hand on Lyn’s arm to stop her going up to them.  She looked at him, puzzled.  
  
“Let’s let them be for a bit, just watch them.”  
  
Lyn quickly saw what her dad meant; she wondered who was having more fun, and thought James might just be winning on that count.   
  
She leant into her dad and whispered, “He’ll make a great dad one day.”  
  
“I wish that were the case, love.”  
  
“He’s still got time.  He’s not much older than you were when I was born.”  
  
“I just don’t think James is the type to find a nice girl and settle down.”  
  
“Shouldn’t stop him.”  
  
“Eh?”  
  
“Even single people are allowed to adopt, you know.  The laws _have_ changed.  Singles – men or women – and same-sex couples all have the same right to be parents.”  
  
He looked at her curiously, noting the sudden, bright sheen in her eyes.  
  
Lyn sighed.  “I just think... it would be a shame if he didn’t.  He’s so good with Thom.  Makes me sad to think he might never have a child of his own.”  
  
Robbie wrapped an arm around his daughter, and pulled her close.  He spoke softly, his tone making it clear that this was for her ears only, and not to be repeated or discussed, especially to or around James.  “I believe James is so good with Thom because, when he’s with Thom, he gets to capture part of the childhood he lost.  No-one expects him to be the responsible adult, the serious police officer.  I don’t know all the details, but I’m fairly certain James didn’t have a happy childhood, or a long one; something got mucked up on the way.”  He nodded at the two heads bowed together, giggling over the bricks, one short and blonde, the other smaller, dark and wavy.  “ _That’s_ why I really wanted James here this weekend; having watched them at Christmas, I wanted him to spend more time with Thom, to soak up some of that innocence that only the young truly have.  I want him to be silly.  Inside his head he’s almost as old as me, and that’s not right.”  
  
“And it makes you happy to see him happy, younger.”  It wasn’t a question; Lyn could see it clearly on her dad’s face as he watched the two ‘boys’ in his life.

 

*****

 

Tim met them when they arrived home, and took a sleeping Thom inside.  Lyn kissed her dad and James goodbye, rather awkwardly from the back seat, and extracted a promise that they would be there for breakfast.  
  
“I wish you could stay,” she said wistfully.  “Hopefully next year.  You will be here by eight, won’t you?”  
  
“I’ll get James to set the alarm on me phone for five minutes after his.  With two alarms we should manage to get up on time.  Now get inside quick, before it rains.”  
  
Almost on cue, several fat drops splattered against the window, and Lyn dashed inside.  
  
As they drove away, Robbie glanced at James.  “Your face’ll trip you up if you’re not careful.  What’s the matter?”  James gave a small shake of the head and looked out the window.  Robbie grinned.  “Tell you what, if you’re good, I’ll buy you some Lego for your birthday, how would that be?”  
  
“If you also promise to sit on the floor and play with me that would be wonderful.”  He rolled his head so he was looking up at Robbie, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth and playing around his eyes.   
  
Robbie would have given anything to know exactly what was going on in James’s mind at that moment.  He swallowed quickly, aware he’d taken a fraction too long to respond.  “Ah, well, I’ll see what I can do; me knees aren’t what they used to be.”  
  
James snorted softly, his smile now reaching his eyes.  He returned his gaze to the quickly lowering skies.  They were going to get soaked before they got inside.

*****

 

Not only did James set Robbie’s alarm to go off five minutes after his, he also set it at full volume.  If James wasn’t awake by then, he certainly was when Robbie’s pillow hit him square on the back of the head.  
  
“Ya bugger!”  Robbie grumbled.  “What did you go an’ do that for?  You trying to give me a heart attack?”  
  
James rolled over with a small smile, gently pitching the pillow back.  “I doubt you’re unlikely to roll over and go back to sleep now, are you?  Therefore I have done what I set out to do – get you up on time.”  He rolled back, swung his legs out of the bed and stretched cat-like, his pyjama jacket rising up his back, exposing taut, lean muscle, and the top of narrow hips where his pyjama bottoms had slipped down during the night.  _  
  
Slipped or pushed_ thought Robbie, and shook his head furiously to dispel the image of thumbs slipping inside the waistband of James’s pyjamas.  Robbie had made the decision to try to be more... open... this weekend, to let James know how he felt towards him without scaring him away.  He thought he knew how James felt about him – that he was a good enough detective to have read the signs – but it had been a long time since he’d played this game with anyone.  Had the rules changed with time?  Was what he knew as courting now considered something else?  If it was, what constituted courting?   _Did_ people even court these days?  And how would he really know what to say or not say, what to do or not do.  He hoped that by slowly testing the waters in this way, he would still have James’s friendship if he’d been wrong and it all came to naught.  However, this weekend was proving to be quite an eye-opener; simple comments and actions from James were taking on a double-meaning, and Robbie was more than half-convinced that James was fully aware of what was happening, and that many of his responses were deliberate.   
  
Those thoughts had preoccupied him half the night and it was a good thing he could generally get by on less than six hours sleep.  He was suddenly aware that James was staring at him and he wondered how long he’d been wool-gathering.  
  
James smiled slowly, the smile that said, _what are you thinking?_  
  
“May I suggest a cold shower to wake you up fully?” he smirked.  
  
“Sod.”

 

*****

 

Lyn was delighted when they arrived early.   
  
“Oh thank God, you’re here; he’s been like this since he woke.”  They could hear Thom yelling in another room, in that _I’m going to cry until I drive you to tears too_ way that toddlers have.   
  
“Nooooooo, no dada, noooooo.”   
  
To his great consternation, Lyn grabbed James by the elbow and dragged him towards the wailing.  Robbie, left standing in the doorway, headed to the kitchen; James was going to need coffee.  A squeal of delight stopped him in his tracks.  
  
“ _Now!  Peeeeeaaaasss!!_ ”  
  
“Now.  Yes.”  The relief in Tim’s voice was palpable.  “Sorry, James.”  Robbie didn’t hear James’s reply, but curiosity brought him to the living area, following the sound of Thom’s giggles.  
  
“Don’t say it – and don’t you dare take...”  James scowled as Robbie dug out his phone and took a photo; he’d never seen Robbie use the camera on his phone and was stunned that, not only did he know _how_ to, he managed it faster than he ever managed to read a text.   
  
“That’s a keeper.”  Robbie smiled indulgently at James, who was Silver to Thom’s Lone Ranger, Hero to Thom’s Phantom, though Robbie was fairly certain neither of those heroes had ever ridden clutching an Easter basket.  
  
James huffed, “If that image ever... oooooff!”  Annoyed at his ‘horse’s’ lack of progress, Thom had dug his heels in.  
  
“Thom!  Oh, God, James, I’m so sorry.”  Lyn scooped Thom off James’s back.  “Thom, we never kick, never.  Okay?”  Though her voice was gentle, Thom’s bottom lip began to tremble.  “Do you still want Uncle James to help you follow the Easter Bunny?”  Thom nodded, his little face grave.  “Then maybe Uncle James could be a sniffer dog instead, and you could follow him.”  They ignored Robbie’s laughter.  Thom managed a smile and Lyn put him down next to James.  “Are you all right, James, he didn’t...”  
  
James gave her what he hoped was a reassuring look.  “All fine, no harm done – except to my pride.”  He turned to Thom.  “C’mon then, little man, let’s see what we can find.”  
  
Thom looked seriously at James.  “I sowwy, Unk Jay.  Easser bun?”   
  
Discarding the basket, they continued their hunt; James laughed when Lyn snatched Robbie’s phone off him and put it in her pocket.  “For being mean,” she scolded him, “You’re in the kitchen with me – breakfast won’t cook itself.”   
  
  
  
Being a small flat the hunt was never going to be a long affair and, being a toddler, Thom’s attention to the game stopped after the fourth egg was found and he could hold no more.  While James tried in vain to stop Thom stuffing a whole egg into his mouth at once, Tim quietly gathered up the remaining chocolate.  Lyn and Robbie brought their breakfast to the small table.   
  
Lyn had made three plans for the day, all dependent on the weather and Thom’s mood.  
  
“Just like your mother,” Robbie remarked fondly.  “She always planned for multiple possibilities so you and Mark wouldn’t be disappointed.”   
  
Lyn scooped up some dirty dishes and headed to the kitchen.  “So it’s bad telly, followed by a picnic lunch down the park then?”  Only Robbie saw her wipe a tear away.  
  
“Sounds grand, love.”

 

*****

 

A sudden but not unexpected storm had them back in the flat just after two.  Thom was restless, and when Tim suggested playing hide-and-seek he clapped his hands gleefully.  James looked puzzled, scanning the tiny space.  “But... where do you hide?”   
  
Tim laughed, “Thom’s still grasping the whole concept of hiding.  He’ll often sit in a chair and cover his eyes; if he can’t see you, he thinks you can’t see him, and so he’s hidden.  It’s all a bit of a distraction more than anything else at the moment, and he loves it.  C’mon, Thom, let’s hide and see if Grumpa and Uncle James can find us.”  
  
So Thom hid in plain sight, and Robbie and James pretended to have trouble finding him, with one or the other eventually scooping him up with squeals of glee.  After several turns Thom announced, “Thom fine now,” covered his eyes and started counting, “one, free, one...”   
  
“In the kitchen, tiger.”  Tim picked him up.  “No peeking while they hide.”  Tim started counting with him.  
  
Caught out by the quick change in the game, James and Robbie stared at each other motionless until Tim reached ‘eight’, then they both ducked behind the same armchair, which was barely big enough to hide one of them.  Taking the game far more seriously that Thom would, and having no time to find an alternate spot, James curled up, practically sitting in Robbie’s lap.  Robbie started to protest, stopping when he heard Thom come into the room.  James was unbalanced and, rather than have him fall and reveal their hiding spot, Robbie anchored him in place with an arm around his waist.  He silently prayed Lyn or Tim wouldn’t find them there.  To his increasing concern – and enjoyment if he was honest – James relaxed into his hold, resting his hand against Robbie’s thigh for additional balance.  
  
“Gone, dada, Grumpa ‘n’ Unk Jay gone.”  Thom’s sad voice faded out of the room.   
  
  
  
Robbie whispered, “I’m guessing that’s game over.”  James reluctantly pushed himself to his feet, offering a hand to help Robbie up.  Lyn walked in as Robbie was dusting himself off and studied her Dad and James carefully.   
  
“I think that’s enough excitement for one afternoon, gentlemen.”  She walked over and placed a hand against Robbie’s flushed cheek.  “Are you feeling okay?  You look like you could use a lie down.  Thom’s going down for a nap; maybe you should join him.”  
  
James snorted loudly, and tried in vain to bite back his smile.  Lyn and Robbie scowled at him.  “Careful James,” Lyn scolded.  “You’ll be Dad’s age one day, and Thom will be suggesting _you_ take a nap.”  
  
James was warmed by Lyn’s assumption that he would still be a part of Thom’s – and therefore Robbie’s – life in twenty-odd years’ time.  Did she really consider him that much a part of the family?  
  
Robbie and James said their goodbyes to Thom – the family were going to Tim’s folks later that afternoon – and Lyn put him to bed.  
  
“Cuppa before you go?”  Tim held up the kettle.  “Lyn’s got something she wants to ask you.”

*****

 

“Christmas, eh?”  Robbie glanced at James.  
  
“Please say you can both come?”  Lyn’s eyes darted hopefully between them.  
  
“We’ll have to check the rostering, love,” Robbie explained.  “Christmas is popular and I was off last time.”  
  
“You were on call!” Lyn protested.  “That’s not off-duty; it was pure luck you weren’t called in!”  
  
Robbie raised his hands in defence.  “Okay, okay.  But the roster’s not up to me.”  
  
“But you can ask?”  
  
Robbie sighed.  “Okay, I’ll–”  He saw James nodding.  “We’ll ask.”

 

*****

 

They left as Thom was waking.  Having said goodbye, they didn’t want to confuse or upset him and left in a flurry of kisses, hugs and handshakes, with Lyn extracting a second promise about Christmas.  
  
In the car James turned to Robbie.  “You know Innocent will sign off the roster herself.  She’s still annoyed with you for going on call when Lyn and the family were coming down.”  
  
“I know, but I wasn’t saying anything in front of Lyn.  What else could I do?  I couldn’t leave you at the mercy of Peterson and Hooper over Christmas.  What kind of mate would I have been?”  
  
“Lyn’s right, though – you _were_ lucky.  And it would only be fair to let Lyn have a Christmas where she wasn’t worrying that you were going to be whisked away.”  
  
“Sergeant Hathaway, I get the distinct impression you want to come back here for Christmas.”  
  
“Always said you were a good detective; never believed any of those nasty rumours.”  
  
They smiled at each other, both very aware that something had changed this weekend but, if they were pressed, neither could have put it into words.  
  
  
  
That evening, while James was in the shower, Robbie made enquiries about booking for Christmas.  Re-booked into the same room, and a deposit paid, Robbie decided he’d tell James after Innocent signed off their leave – as he also had no doubt she would.

 


	3. Happy Birthday, James

Robbie walked out of the off-licence, empty-handed, in a funk, and cursing Laura.  He’d gone in to buy James’s birthday present – a fine single malt, the same gift he’d given for the last five birthdays (and Christmases, too, if he was honest).  He’d turned to apologise to the person he’d bumped into, only to see Laura’s bright face smiling up at him.  
  
“Higher standard than you’re used to, isn’t it?”  She nodded at the bottle in Robbie’s hand.  
  
“It’s for James, it’s his birthday Saturday week; I always get him this – he’ll be expecting it.”  
  
Laura screwed up her nose and shook her head.  
  
“Oh,” Robbie queried.  “And you’re a single malt expert now are you?”  
  
“I know a thing or two, Inspector Lewis.  It’s not solely a male pleasure.  However...”  Her tone changed and Robbie was immediately on alert – he was in for a ‘Dr Hobson Special Instruction’, and they were ignored at the recipient’s peril.  “The same gift, year after year – no matter how welcome – shows a lack of originality, and of thought.  Have you ever considered giving James something more... personal, more individual?  Something he couldn’t walk into a shop and buy for himself.”  
  
“An’ how am I supposed to do that?”  Robbie exclaimed.  
  
Laura took the bottle from his hands and returned it to the shelf.  “Oh, come on, Robbie, you two talk – surely it’s not all work?  He must have mentioned something at some time, no matter how vague.  Or you could ask him; it doesn’t have to be expensive or big.  I remember when I was twelve I wanted a rainbow; my grandmother bought me a glass prism, so I could have a rainbow any time I wanted – I still have that prism.”  
  
Robbie looked thoughtful and lost.  Despite the shift in his relationship with James, they weren’t even close to the point where confidences, hopes and dreams were a part of their conversations, and the thought of starting such a discussion was daunting.  “James doesn’t talk about things like that – he’s private.”  
  
Laura frowned at him.  “You’re not exactly Mr Expansive yourself, but even I worked out you’d like those rugby tickets last year.”  
  
“That you did.”  Robbie huffed a small laugh and gave a fond smile at the memory of how pleased Laura had been that her present was well-received, and how fiercely James had scowled when he realised there were two tickets and that, if Laura didn’t go, he’d be roped in.  (He had been and grudgingly admitted he’d enjoyed it, if only from an anthropological perspective.)  
  
“Look…”  Laura lightly touched his arm to get his attention.  “Unless every distillery in Scotland is destroyed tomorrow, these single malts will be here next weekend.  If you don’t come up with anything by then, come back and buy the bottle of your choice.”  She watched him as he wrestled with the idea.   
  
“Okay, okay, I’ll see what I can drag out of him, but I bet you a tenner I’m here next week.”  
  
“It’s a bet, though one I’ll be sad to pay up on.”  With that, she stretched up her toes, gave him a kiss on the cheek and headed off with her wine.  
  
Robbie gathered up his bad mood and walked out into the evening.  Get James to talk about birthdays?  He was sure he’d have more luck convincing Innocent to flirt with the Chief Constable – in full view of the ranks. 

 

*****

 

“Laura!”  The plaintive wail caught her by surprise.  “Laura, can you come over to my place?  **_Now?_** ” ****  
  
“Robbie, what on earth... what’s that God-awful noi– ”  The line went dead.  And Laura identified the sound – those piercing peeps could only belong to a smoke detector.  
  
She tried calling back twice; her first call was cancelled or cut off, the second went to voicemail.  Laura wasn’t prone to panic; it was a useless reaction in her line of work and fogged rational thought processes.  But as her brain rapidly pieced together everything she knew about Robbie, the only conclusion she could reach was that there was a fire of some description in Robbie’s flat.  Calmly, she called emergency services, then drove to Robbie’s as quickly as safety would allow.  
  
She passed the fire engine as it left Robbie’s road, and there was a police car out the front of Robbie’s building.  As she parked her car, Laura could see Robbie talking to a uniformed officer.  By the time she was crossing the road the car was gone and a clearly baffled Robbie was staring at her.  
  
“You called the fire service?”  Robbie was looking at her in disbelief.  
  
“It _was_ a smoke detector I heard, wasn’t it?”  Laura was slightly offended by Robbie’s tone.  “You called me – in a panic.  I thought there was a fire; I tried to call you back and you didn’t answer.  James would have done the exact same thing and you know it.”  
  
Robbie backed down quickly.  Though she was petite, an angry Laura was a formidable presence and not to be trifled with.  
  
“What’s going on Robbie?”  
  
“You’d better come inside.  Tea?”  
  
*  
  
The odour of something charred hung in the air, the extractor hood doing its best to remove the slight smoke haze in the kitchen.  A glance at the bench gave Laura a surprising answer.  
  
“You were baking a cake?”  
  
Robbie poured the tea and waved Laura toward the couch.   
  
“After I saw you at the off-licence, I had a call from our Lyn – she’s pregnant again, due early December.”  
  
Laura’s face lit up.  “Robbie, that’s wonderful news!  Isn’t it?”  Robbie’s expression seemed to indicate otherwise.  
  
“Oh, it’s the best news; Lyn and Tim are ecstatic, though wee Thom doesn’t understand.  And Lyn still wants us up for Christmas, so it’ll be a double celebration now.”  
  
“Then why the sad face?”  
  
“James.”  Laura waited for him to continue.  She hadn’t worked around detectives for these many years and not picked up a trick or two.  Robbie sank into the couch, nursing his mug.  “I rang James after, asked him if he wanted to come over, help me celebrate.  Anyway, I started talking about Thom’s birthday coming up, and wondering what Lyn would do for it, and then I started on about Lyn and Mark’s birthdays, and how Val would make them a cake every year, when I realised I’d lost me audience.  James was miles away.”  Robbie sighed heavily.  “When asked him what was up – hell, Laura, I thought he was going to cry; he looked like someone had gutted him – turns out he can only remember having three birthday cakes in his life, and one of those was that cupcake you got him on his thirtieth.  So...”  
  
“So you thought you’d make him one.”  Laura’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears.  “Robbie that is so sweet, very kind and thoughtful.”  
  
Robbie was blushing.  “Yeah, well, it didn’t turn out that well...”  He thumbed over his shoulder at the disaster area in the kitchen.  “...and James’s birthday’s today.”   
  
“All’s not lost, Robbie, chin up.  I’ll help you.”  Robbie stared at her.  “I _can_ bake Robbie.  My mother was an excellent baker and I paid close attention.  Come on.”  She stood and attempted to pull him to his feet.  “Now, do you have a recipe book?”   
  
Robbie shook his head, looking very forlorn.  “I had those packets…”  He pointed at the mess on the bench.  “…an’ that’s it.”   
  
Laura quickly surveyed his pantry, her nose wrinkling at the bareness of it.  
  
“Spare me the lecture, please Laura, I get it from Lyn – and James – at least once a fortnight.”  
  
“Just this once.”  She let him squirm a little longer.  “Right, clean up here, then back to my place where _you_ will bake a cake for James under _my_ tutelage.  No point in filling your pantry with ingredients you’ll probably never use again.”  
  
Robbie looked at her with something very close to awe.  “You’d do that for me?”  
  
“I’m doing it for you _and_ James.  Heaven knows the boy deserves some of life’s little pleasures, and if that’s homemade chocolate cake from you, then so be it.”

 

*****

 

“Right, thirty-five minutes should see that done, then you can make the ganache.  Tea?”  
  
“The what?”  
  
“Ganache.  Think of it as thick, rich, chocolate icing, without the icing sugar.  Tea?”  
  
“Is it tricky?”  
  
“No, you boil the water, put tea in the pot...”  She grinned at his impatient ‘humph’.  “You’ve just mixed a cake from scratch; trust me, Robbie, you can make ganache.  Now, would you like a cup of tea or should I pop you on a stool in front of the oven until the timer goes off?”  
  
Robbie smiled meekly.  “Tea, please.”  
  
  
  
Tea and Laura’s lemon and poppy seed cake were exactly what Robbie needed.  He couldn’t believe how much his hands had shaken as Laura nursed him through each step of the recipe.  If that was a simple cake, he’d never look at bakers in the same way again.  It was a damn impressive skill, and one he’d never appreciated in Val.  
  
“So what else have you planned for James or were you just going to feed him cake?”  Robbie knew Laura well, and knew she was genuinely interested and not trying to take the mickey.  
  
“I’ve invited him over for dinner and couple of beers...  what?”  
  
Laura was shaking her head and had pursed her lips.  “Let me guess: lamb korma, beef vindaloo, rice, dahl, naan, perhaps a biryani for a change?”  Robbie didn’t answer.  “It’s his birthday, Robbie; the cake’s a lovely idea but why not make a night of it?  It’s not as though he’s got family that will make a fuss.”  While James hadn’t confirmed or denied any close family members, he had let slip, one night while a little worse for wear, that there was no-one in his family who would make an effort over birthdays, Christmas or any important event.  
  
“The few meals I can cook, bar one, James taught me,” Robbie grumbled.  “And the last time I made him egg and chips I got a lecture on me cholesterol levels.”  
  
“Then take him out somewhere – but not the pub – and back home for coffee – or tea – and cake, although I should point out that stout goes quite well with that cake too.”  
  
Robbie was feeling a little unsure about the twinkle in Laura’s eyes.  “Isn’t dinner a bit, well, like a date.  I mean, this is James – and me.  It’s not like you’re taking him or I’m taking you, it’s...  it’s...”  
  
“It’s what?  Unconventional perhaps, but it’s not as though you’re going to take him for a romantic walk along the river afterwards.”  She caught a flicker of surprise in Robbie’s eyes.  “Of course, if you wanted to take him...”  
  
“Don’t be silly, man, James’d never...”  Robbie took a large mouthful of tea and wished it was hot enough to cover the heat he could feel in his cheeks.  
  
“I know a really nice place; I haven’t been for a while, but it’s lovely and informal, reasonably priced, and you could easily walk from your place.  Shall I book you a table?”  
  
Robbie thought carefully.  For all her mischief and piss-taking, he knew Laura genuinely cared about him and James; and there were times when she was very protective of James.  He was confident she wouldn’t set them up in any way.  
  
“It’s not French, is it?”   
  
“It’s seafood – neither of you have allergies, do you?”   
  
Robbie shook his head.  “Oh, all right, go on then.  You’ll need to write down the details for me or, better yet, put them in the reminders thingy on me phone, please.”  Robbie remembered one small detail.  “Laura…”  He pulled out his wallet.  “Here’s that tenner.  I’m glad you won.”

 

*****

 

Back home, with the cake safely nestled in his fridge, Robbie rang James to let him know about the slight change of plans.  
  
“A restaurant?”  Robbie winced at James’s tone.  “Isn’t that a bit...”  
  
“Laura assures me it’s a suitable restaurant, an’ she likes you too much to wind you up.”  He didn’t add _I hope_.  
  
“And dessert at yours?”  What _was_ that note in James’s voice?  It was definitely more than a simple query.  
  
“Er, yeah, Laura gave us a bit of hand with that, but...  Ah, I’ll tell you the whole story some time.”  
  
“I look forward to it.”  Ah, now he could hear James’s smile. 

 

*****

 

They walked into the restaurant behind a young couple who appear to be melded together.  Robbie was going to remark to James that he hoped they wouldn’t be too disappointed in their choice of ‘romantic’ restaurant when he saw James’s look of astonishment.  He followed his gaze and understood immediately.  Yes, it was seafood, and yes, it was informal – they were neither over nor under-dressed.  It was also very romantic – low light, roses, candles, well-spaced tables, soft music – it was most definitely a ‘date’ restaurant, and not for a ‘first date’.  
  
James lowered his head to Robbie’s ear and whispered curiously, “Laura thinks this is appropriate?  Is she trying to tell us something, do you think?”  
  
Robbie didn’t want to think about that but knew he’d eventually have to.  “She’s certainly got some explaining to do.”  He pulled James out of the queue and waved the couple behind them on.  The patrons Robbie could see were mostly couples and there didn’t appear to be any families; there _was_ one table with what appeared to be a group of six young men, but this was Oxford so he wasn’t entirely convinced.  The rest of the floor only contained tables for two as far has he could see.  It was like the B &B all over again, except here they would stand out – were the lighting any brighter.  “We can go somewhere else – it’s not a holiday weekend, we should be able to find something.”  
  
James looked around once more, and considered everything carefully.  “I think I’d like to stay.”  
  
“Your birthday, lad.”  Robbie shrugged as they took their place back in the queue.  
  
“Ah, reservation for Lewis.”  
  
“I have one for Hobson/Lewis, sir?”  A noise caught Robbie’s attention and turned to see James struggling to control his smirk.  
  
Robbie gave the hostess a smile, the one he generally saved for innocent bystanders.  “That’ll be the one, thank you.”  
  
They were shown to their table and Robbie swung between relief and horror that it was away from the doors and very private.  James kept grinning.  “You enjoying yourself then, James?”  
  
“I am indeed, Robbie.  Never had a birthday quite like this; it’s one surprise after another.”  
  
From what they could see and smell the food appeared very good, though in this light Robbie suspected Winalot would look gourmet.  They ordered, and Robbie let James choose the wine.  “You’re better at this matching business than me.  I’d drink red with everything if it was left up to me.”  
  
“God forbid!”  James raised his eyebrows comically in mock indignation.  “I can see I’m going to have to educate you on the finer points of dining before I accept any further invitations.”  
  
With the arrival of their starter Laura was forgiven.  Whatever qualms they had about the restaurant melted away with the first mouthful.   
  
“Oh.”  James’s eyes were wide and round.  “You have to try this.”  James offered Robbie a forkful of baked scallop, and Robbie, without thinking about it, ate straight off the fork.  
  
“God, that is good!  Try this.”  And with that, Robbie fed James some of his crab salad.  
  
Their waiter returned a few minutes later and topped up their glasses.  James had chosen the wine well and accepted Robbie’s praise with grace.  He was noticeably a little uncertain of the waiter’s compliments though.  Waiting until he had moved to another table, James leant across and whispered, “The waiter seems to have taken an interest in us.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  Robbie turned his head to see where their waiter had gone, and was astounded to see he was quite openly watching James.  “I think he’s taken an interest in _you_.”  He grinned at James, who closed his eyes and loosed a small groan.  As Robbie looked from the waiter and back at James, a silly – and possibly dangerous – idea formed.   
  
“If he wants to watch you, why don’t we give him something to watch, maybe put him off even?”  James looked curious enough for Robbie to continue.  “I’m working on the assumption he finds you attractive, but would you look as attractive if he thought you were... unavailable?”  
  
“Go on.”  James folded his arms on the table and leant toward Robbie.   
  
“Right now he probably thinks I’m your dad or uncle or something, but if we were to...”  Robbie put down the napkin he’d been fiddling with, reached across the table and took hold of James’s hand, pulling it towards him.  “I’m not looking, what’s he doing?”  
  
James ducked his head, not entirely feigning shyness, and glanced across the room through half-closed eyes.  “He’s a bit... stunned, I’d say,” James whispered.  “Shit, he’s coming over.”  
  
James tugged at his hand but Robbie held fast.  He caught James’s eye, and James relaxed.  It would be okay.  
  
The waiter, Ricky (James finally managed to read the fine script embroidered on his shirt), cleared their table and brought fresh napkins, water and glasses, before returning with their main course.  Robbie found several ways to make contact with James, including holding his wrist as he poured the last of the wine into his glass; they ordered a second bottle.  
  
“You realise we’ll be walking home at this rate, lad?”  
  
“I don’t mind, it’s quite a pleasant night.”  James picked up Robbie’s hand.  “Will you hold my hand as we leave – if Ricky’s watching, that is,” he added in a rush.  
  
Robbie gave a small laugh.  “If you like.”  He held James’s gaze for a moment longer than necessary, and something passed between them.  Robbie cleared his throat. “If any of this were to get back to Laura...”  
  
James snorted softly.  “She probably wouldn’t believe it.  She’d think we were taking the piss.”  
  
It became a bit of game to see who would spot Ricky approaching the table and make the first move.  By the time they reached the bottom of the second bottle things were getting a little silly; thankfully it was also their cue to leave, but not before one more visit from Ricky.  
  
“Would you care to order dessert?  Today’s special is...”  
  
“Oh, no thanks, son, we’ve got dessert at home.  Can I have the bill please?”  
  
“Very good, sir.”  Robbie gave Ricky a double-take.  He didn’t like the purr in his voice nor the very smug way he was looking at them.  Robbie knew he was missing something, not quite putting the pieces together; he blamed the wine.  
  
James, however, apparently _had_ understood Ricky’s intent and, clearly emboldened by the wine and their secluded position, picked up Robbie’s hand, stroking the back firmly with his thumb, and fixed his gaze on Ricky.  Then, to Robbie’s utter amazement, James turned to look directly at him and, straight-faced (or as straight – faced as you can be with bedroom eyes – _now where the hell did that idea come from_?) James practically purred, “Mmm hmm, my birthday treat.”  
  
James kept his gaze – _those eyes_ – on Robbie, as Ricky walked out of their line of sight.  A tingling shiver surged through Robbie.  James blinked, and the moment was gone.

 

*****

 

Robbie didn’t remember paying the bill, whether Ricky was watching them as they left, or whether or not he held James’s hand.  It took a few minutes in the night air before he felt the fog around him begin to lift.  _I imagined it.  Too much wine.  Too much silliness.  But if I didn’t..._  
  
  
  
It was a pleasant walk home, if a little brisk, and they walked close together, occasionally bumping into each other.  
  
James slowed his pace a little.  “Are you going to say anything to Laura about her dining recommendation?”  
  
“Nah.”  Robbie rocked into James shoulder.  “Wasn’t that bad in the end, was it?”  
  
“No.  No, it wasn’t.”  James was thoughtful.  “We should go back another night.”  James lengthened his stride so he was a little in front; it wouldn’t do for Robbie to see his grin.

 

*****

 

Despite Laura’s assurance that the cake went well with stout, Robbie put the kettle on and sorted the tea pot.  Now felt like a time for clear heads and James said he was happy with tea.  Robbie waved James off to settle on the couch before scrambling in the back of the pantry, emerging with the leaf tea he knew James liked (and had bought).   
  
“Do you need a hand?” James asked.  
  
“No, all good, you stay there and relax.”  Robbie heard the sigh and creak of the couch as James pushed himself down into his corner.   
  
Robbie uncovered the cake and added the candles, checking to make sure James still had his back to him.  Not having matches he used the gas burner to light the first candle, touching it to the others as quickly as he could.  With everything arranged on a tray, Robbie took a deep breath and flicked off the lights.  As expected, he saw James turn around, a silhouette beyond the flare of the candlelight.   
  
  
  
Before James could say a word, he heard a sound he never thought he’d hear.  
  
Robbie was singing ‘Happy Birthday’, and James was speechless.  
  
  
  
Robbie placed the tray on the coffee table at the end of the (solo) three cheers, delighted by James’s reaction.  “Not often I do something that leaves you lost for words, lad.”  
  
James gaped.  “You sang to me – you serenaded me on my birthday.”  
  
“Don’t get carried away now.”  Knowing how much it annoyed him, Robbie ruffled James’s hair to shut him up.  “Go on, blow out your candles and make a wish.  I know it’s not the right amount, but I wasn’t going to risk the smoke alarm again.”  
  
James inhaled, and paused.  “Again?”  
  
“Never mind.”  Robbie pointed at the cake, “Quick, candles and wish before the wax drips.”  
  
James did as he was told, with a grin as bright and innocent as one of Thom’s.  He kept his eyes shut tight for a few seconds before looking up at Robbie with eyes that were clear and happy.  Robbie handed him the knife with a fond smile.  “Cut your cake, birthday boy.”   
  
Robbie poured out the tea while James cut the first slice.  As he put it on the plate, James looked at it closely and stared at Robbie in wonder; Robbie bit his bottom lip and waited.  
  
“It’s home-made.”  James’s voice was a hoarse whisper.  “You baked a cake.  For me.”  
  
“Laura helped.”  
  
“You _made_ me a birthday cake.”  James repeated, as though he were afraid it might disappear.  He put the plate on the table and took Robbie’s mug from him.  Robbie stayed silent, curious and a little nervous at what James might do next.  James moved closer and wrapped his arms around Robbie’s waist.  He buried his face into Robbie’s neck, and Robbie felt a warm wetness.  
  
“Thank you.”  James was muffled against Robbie’s neck.   
  
Robbie pulled James into his arms, and held him.  “You’re welcome, lad, I’m pleased you like it.”  It was minute or two before James slowly pulled back.  He kissed Robbie, a small, quick peck near the corner of his mouth, before picking up the plate and mug and handing them back to Robbie.  As James cut another piece for himself, Robbie asked, “You’ll stay here tonight?  Your birthday – you take the bed, I’ll kip on the couch.”   
  
“I couldn’t let you do that to your back, Robbie; Dr Hobson and the Chief Super would never forgive me.  Besides, I like your couch.”  
  
Robbie took a deep breath.  “It’s a big bed, and I only use half; what say you use the other half tonight – in honour of your birthday and homemade cake.”  When James hesitated, Robbie quickly added, “I suppose it was a bit of a silly...”  
  
“I’d like that,” James blurted out.  “It’s... I don’t have anything I could wear other than...”  
  
“I’m sure I can find you something.”

 

 


	4. Happy Birthday, Robbie

  
James dropped into his chair so hard it sank as the gas-lift gave way a little.  
  
Robbie waited for the eruption that was plainly brewing.  James had been in Innocent’s office for nearly an hour and that never boded well.  
  
James growled through clenched teeth, “I’ve been _advised_ that, unless I want to find myself on traffic duty in the near future, I _will_ attend the upcoming Counter-Terrorism weekend seminar in Brighton.”   
  
“A weekend in the sun, lucky you.”  Neither Robbie’s face nor tone really said he thought James was lucky.   
  
“Yippee for me,” James deadpanned.  “It’ll be all bloody holidaymakers and opportunists – we’ll all probably be roped in on investigations instead.”  
  
“It’s two days an’ Innocent’ll be off your back for a couple of years.  Think of it as building up some insurance.”  
  
James’s scowl didn’t shift.  “All right,” Robbie sighed.  “I’ll play; what’s really bothering you.”   
  
James’s shoulders slumped.  He spun in his seat, planted both elbows on the table and sank his chin into his hands; he looked miserable.  
  
“Oh, God,” Robbie gasped.  “Don’t tell me you have to go with Peterson?”  
  
“Please don’t even think that, sir!”  James was horrified.  “It’s just the sort of thing she’d do to really make me suffer.”  
  
Robbie was puzzled.  “Then what’s put you out so badly?  I know you don’t like seminars and the networking that’s expected to go on, but it is only two days.”  
  
“It’s the weekend of your birthday.”  Robbie hadn’t heard James’s voice so flat for some time.  
  
“Oh.”  There was nothing else to say.  Robbie knew James had made plans; he’d insisted Robbie keep the Saturday free because he wanted to say ‘Happy Birthday’ and ‘Thank you’ for making his birthday so special and memorable.

 

*****

 

James groaned loudly and dropped his phone back on the desk.  He’d been unusually short-tempered in the two days since being told about the seminar, and Robbie waited for the muttering to begin.  He didn’t expect James to drag himself out of his chair and head for the door.  
  
“Where are you going?”  
  
“I’ve been summoned by the good Doctor.”   
  
“By text?”  Robbie couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice.  
  
James shrugged and slouched off.  
  
*  
  
“Doctor.”  
  
“Sergeant.”  
  
“You messaged.”  James was in no mood for games.  
  
Laura headed for a side room and James followed with a disgruntled sigh.   
  
“I heard about the seminar... and the timing.  I’m sorry; I’m guessing you had plans.”   
  
James frowned at her.  “Why would you say that?”  
  
“Because rumour has it you’re a snippy bugger every time someone mentions it.  Even Robbie doesn’t hate seminars that much, so the only logical conclusion is that the seminar cocked up something else.  Am I wrong?”  
  
James’s frown eased.  “It was a chance to thank him properly for...  I know you were...”  
  
“I supervised his baking and booked the restaurant; Robbie did all the work.”  
  
“He told me.”  James smiled awkwardly.  “I’ve never really... thank you, Laura.”  He ducked his head and gave her a small, quick kiss on the cheek.  
  
“Enough of that Sergeant, you’ll start rumours.”   
  
“Sorry, Dr Hobson; I’ll control myself in future.”  James rocked back on his heels, hands clasped behind his back, his grin fading as Laura grew serious.  
  
“James,” she started cautiously.  “The reason I dragged you down here was to ask if it would be okay with you if _I_ asked Robbie out to dinner for his birthday.”  
  
James paused for a second, wondering why she felt she had to ask.  “I, ah, I think that’s an excellent idea, Doctor, I’m sure the Inspector would enjoy that.  And it will make me happy to know he’s not stuck in his flat, by himself, on the day.”  
  
“You’re sure?”  She watched James carefully.  
  
“While the role of bagman covers a wide range of duties and responsibilities, I’m _fairly_ sure vetting birthday invitations _isn’t_ one of them.”  
  
Laura nodded.  “I just wanted to be sure I wasn’t... Thanks, James.”

 

*****

 

“Laura’s asked me to dinner for me birthday.”  Robbie took another sip of tea, seemingly fascinated by the pottery shards Tony Robinson was describing on the telly.  
  
“That’s thoughtful of her.  Did you accept?”  James was more interested in Robbie’s reaction.  
  
“I said I’d think about it.”  
  
“You what?”  Horrified, James twisted his body towards Robbie.  “And what else do you propose to do on the day?  Sit here with a beer and watch more _Time Team_?”  
  
“Settle down, man, what’s got your knickers in a...  Did you put the idea in Laura’s head?”  
  
“Did I put... No. I did not.”  James was affronted.  “She _asked my permission_ to ask you – as though I had some, some, some proprietary claim to your time.”  
  
“You had nothing to do with... _asked permission?_   Presumably you gave it?”  Robbie stared at James.  
  
“I informed her that such things didn’t generally fall to the lot of the bagman.”  James slumped down, his knees poking up in the air.  “And it’s not as though we...”  
  
“No.”  Robbie hurried in.  “No.  I’ll let Laura know tomorrow.  Will you help me choose what to wear?”  
  
James smiled playfully.  “It’s the least I can do.”  

*****

 

James slapped a sheaf of papers on the desk.  
  
“What’ve you got there?  More case notes?”  
  
“Seminar outline and keynote summaries.”  At least that’s what Robbie thought James mumbled.  
  
“The seminar’s this weekend and you’re starting the reading now?”   
  
“I’ve got five days.  First session’s not until Saturday morning.”  James’s phone rang, cutting off the conversation.  
  
“Hathaway...”  
  
“...Ma’am...”  
  
“...On my way, Ma’am.”  
  
Silently, James dragged himself out of the office.

 

*****

 

James returned, deep in thought, far sooner than Robbie expected.  
  
“Everything all right?”  
  
“Hmmm, oh, yeah, fine.”  
  
“You don’t look fine.”  
  
“Just some final instructions for the weekend, that’s all, a few things to think about.”  
  
“Okay.”  Robbie thought James looked like he could use a cigarette.  “Reckon you could think your way out for some sandwiches and a decent coffee?  I’m going to be here ‘til bloody midnight with this pile of papers.”  
  
“On my way.”  James gathered his jacket and was gone.  
  
  
  
Fresh air and space to think were exactly what James needed as he was in a quandary.  Innocent had called him in to inform him that DI Peterson would now be attending the seminar in his place.  Officially, it was a rethink of priorities; in truth, Peterson had come to her, cap in hand, almost begging for the opportunity to go.  
  
“Not a word.”  The ice in Innocent’s voice was unmistakable.  “If I catch wind of _any_ ‘humour’ directed at or about DI Peterson over this, you and Inspector Lewis will be on the white collar crime rounds faster than you can say ‘bounced cheque’.  Am I clear?”  
  
“Crystal, Ma’am.”   
  
His relief at not going was tempered by disappointment.  He wanted to tell Robbie, because it meant he could now follow through with his birthday plans, however, Robbie had accepted Dr Hobson’s invitation to dinner – and had his outfit planned.  James hated broken promises and would never knowingly put someone in the position of breaking one.  He also knew Robbie was a man of honour and would never consider cancelling his date with the good doctor simply because James’s situation had been reversed.  But if Robbie knew, James suspected (well, if he was hones, hoped) he wouldn’t enjoy his night with Dr Hobson as much as he could.  James’s course of action was clear – he’d say nothing and stay in his flat all weekend.  Or he could...  James brightened a little as an idea formed.

 

*****

 

Robbie was proud of himself for not groaning out loud when he realised Laura was taking him to the same restaurant she’d booked for James’s birthday.  He was intrigued by her response when they walked in.  
  
“Oh, this place has changed.”  She looked around confused.  
  
“Changed?”  
  
“Last time I was here... well it certainly didn’t look like a...  a scene out of a Mills and Boon romance.”  She looked at Robbie as the truth slowly dawned.  “Oh, God.  Was it like this when you and James...?”  
  
Robbie nodded.  “You really had no idea?”  
  
Laura didn’t have to say a word.  In any language she was mortified.  “Robbie, I am so, so sorry.  Oh, it must have been so uncomfortable.”  A small groan escaped.  “I have to apologise to James when he gets back on Monday.”  
  
“You can ring him tomorrow.”  
  
“Don’t be ridiculous.  I can’t call him while he’s at a seminar – if he missed a session Jean would have me lynched.”  
  
“He’s not at the seminar.”  He gave Laura a moment.  “Innocent caught me as I was leaving yesterday.  Apparently Peterson whined to be allowed to go, so she told James he was no longer going to the seminar, gave him Friday afternoon off for his troubles, and sent Peterson to Brighton instead.”  
  
Laura was aghast.  “When did she tell James?  She must have given him fair warning?”  
  
“Tells me she told him Monday.  He told me their meeting was about ‘final instructions’.”  
  
“Very final, I’d say.”  Laura scowled.  “But why didn’t he tell you?  He had plans for your birthday, surely he’d want... ah, you’d already accepted my invitation to dinner.”  She shook her head.  “Silly boy – he could have come and told me, I wouldn’t have taken his head off.”  
  
Robbie shrugged.  “He’s James.”   
  
Their table was in a more open area of the floor and the restaurant was quieter than last time.  Robbie wanted to sink under the table when their waiter appeared and it was Ricky; he hoped Ricky wouldn’t remember him and at first it seemed he would get his wish.  It had been several months since they’d been there and, though he’d never worked in a restaurant, Robbie felt certain that he and James were merely two faces in a sea of customers.  
  
Laura was on duty the next day so, in fairness to her, Robbie had suggested they wait until after the starter to order wine.  When Ricky came to clear their dishes, Robbie ordered the one wine he was sure of – the one James had selected; he saw the flicker of recognition in Ricky’s face, and his stomach sank.  
  
“That wine is an excellent choice, sir.  I believe you had the same when you were last here, with your young man – James, I believe it was?”  
  
“Erm, you remember right.”  He didn’t like the look Ricky gave as he left to bring their main course.  
  
“Friend of yours?  Robbie?”  Laura touched his arm to get his attention.  She’d either missed or chosen to ignore the ‘your young man’, for which Robbie was grateful – he really didn’t care which it was.  
  
“Same waiter James and I had.”  
  
“He seems fine; neither of us is wearing food, he’s knowledgeable, polite, efficient, so why do you look like you’re going to be ill?”  
  
Robbie shook his head.  
  
“Robbie …”  A smile twitched at the corner of Laura’s mouth.  “Something you want to tell me about James’s birthday?”  
  
“Not right now, I’d like to enjoy me own.”  
  
“Of course, sorry for being nosey.”  
  
Robbie smiled warmly.  “No you’re not.”  
  
  
  
They enjoyed their meal, and Robbie pushed his concerns about Ricky to the back of his mind.  He poured the last of the wine into his glass, Laura having reached her limit for the night, and jumped as the bottle was gently taken from his hand.  
  
“Did you want another bottle this evening, sir?  I recall you and James consumed two.”  
  
“Ah, but this isn’t James, as I’m sure you can tell.”  
  
Ricky blinked and bit his lip before blurting out, “Is James is seeing someone new as well?”  
  
Caught by surprise, Robbie answered without thinking, as honestly as he could.  “No, not as far as I know, wouldn’t tell me if he was.”  He immediately wished he could take it back.  Laura didn’t help.  
  
“Robbie, he’s your partner and your best friend – surely if he was seeing someone, you’d be aware of it, even if you didn’t know who?”   
  
The change in Ricky was immediate, as his body language and face switched from pleasantly attentive to furiously indignant.  Laura sat back in her chair in bewilderment.  As Ricky cleared the last of the dishes from the table, he leant towards Robbie and whispered, “James is well rid of you.  I think you’re cruel.”  And with that, he dramatically swept away from the table, leaving Robbie gaping and Laura giggling into her napkin.   
  
“Robert Lewis, either you will tell me what happened when you brought James, or I _will_ track down that young man and find out.  One way or the other, I will know.”  
  
“It was his fault.”  Robbie pointed toward the kitchen where Ricky had disappeared.  “He was...”  Robbie stopped while Laura composed herself.  “D’you want to hear this or not.”  
  
Laura stopped laughing immediately.  “You’re going to tell me?”  
  
“Only because I really believe you _would_ track him down, an’ I know how persuasive you can be.”  
  
Laura put her elbows on the table and rested her chin against the backs of her interlocked fingers.  “I’m listening.”

 

*****

 

Robbie walked Laura to her car, his face still burning.  
  
“Oh, Robbie, I still can’t believe you and James were _flirting_ in public.”  Laura had listened in astonishment as Robbie’s story unfolded.  
  
“Give over, man, we weren’t flirting, we were just... being silly.”  Laura’s insistence on this point was beginning to worry Robbie.  Until she used the word, he’d avoided thinking about it that way, but there was no other word for their behaviour, in his mind at least.  
  
“Robbie, whatever it was, your story’s safe with me.  I don’t think I’ve had a more entertaining evening in quite some time.”  She slipped her arm through his.  “I _am_ sorry it didn’t turn out to be _quite_ the birthday treat I’d planned – nor you for James – but did you enjoy yourself just a little bit?”  
  
Robbie patted her hand where it lay on his arm.  “It was nice to be out with a friend rather than stuck at home on me own.”  
  
“Except you wouldn’t have been on your own,” Laura mused.  “James would have looked after you.”  
  
“But we didn’t know that.”  
  
“True.  Well, this is me.”  They stopped at Laura’s car.  
  
“G’night Laura, thanks for dinner.”  Almost as an afterthought, he kissed her cheek.  
  
“You’re welcome, Robbie.  Any time.”   
  
As Laura sat in her car she watched Robbie in the mirror as he walked down the street.  _Any time?  That was probably the last time.  No-one else really gets a look-in when James is around, do they?_ She smiled and whispered, “Look after him, Robbie.”

 

*****

 

As Robbie drew up in front of his building he noticed a light on in his flat.  He thought it was the lamp in the living area but he was positive he hadn’t left any lights on.  A familiar looking shadow passed in front of the curtains.  Robbie scanned the street and found what he was looking for – James’s car.  He parked his car away from the building and watched and waited.  After a short time the light went off, and soon after James emerged onto the street.  Robbie watched as he took his phone out of his pocket and tapped briefly on the screen before slipping it back into his trouser pocket.  Robbie knew James had a spare key, just as he had one for James’s flat, but he’d never known James to use it.   
  
Robbie walked inside to find his flat absolutely spotless – it even smelled fresh and clean – and candles sat in holders he didn’t recognise on the dining and coffee tables.  Robbie decided he needed a beer and went to the fridge, where he found a bottle of champagne chilling, and fresh grapes in a crystal bowl that wasn’t his.  His phone beeped in his pocket, announcing an email, and he huffed a laugh when he checked it.  He’d just watched James send this, however, it was too long to have been written in the few moments he stood on the step; James must have had it ready to send.  
  
 _“Happy birthday, Robbie.  Hopefully you’ll get this before you leave the restaurant._   James then explained that he was in Oxford and why, and apologised for not letting Robbie know before.  Robbie could not only hear James’s voice as he read, he could also hear the smugness in it.   _I trust your dinner with Dr Hobson went well.  Should you wish to continue the evening after dinner, I’ve taken the liberty of arranging a few items in your flat to help set the mood; I hope I haven’t presumed too much.”_  It then went on to detail everything James had done.  Robbie almost choked when James mentioned changing the sheets on Robbie’s bed, ‘just in case’.    
  
 _Cheeky beggar, he’d know I had no intention of inviting Laura back, wouldn’t he?  I know nothing much has happened since his birthday, but even so..._  
  
Cautiously he checked the bed.  Pulling back the duvet, he rubbed the lush fabric between his fingers; this wasn’t his linen – he’d never seen it before in his life.  He looked for the tag on the pillowcase – there _had_ to be a tag.  ‘1000 thread Egyptian Cotton Sateen.’  These were expensive, even Robbie knew that.  The colour was intense – what was it with James and shades of purple?  These had to be James’s own sheets.  
  
Wandering around the flat, Robbie took in the tiny details.  Standing by the dining table he noticed the delicate cupids moulded into the candles.  James was a cheeky sod.  Robbie sighed, _Damn it, he’s_ my _cheeky sod._  
  
He tapped out a short message and hit ‘send’ before he could change his mind.  
  
//MY FLAT NOW SERGEANT//  
  
James arrived less than fifteen minutes later.  Either he’d sped or traffic was light and the signals favourable.  Despite himself, Robbie wanted to think speed was the reason.  Robbie opened the door to find James rocking back on his heels, arms crossed over his stomach, and head bowed.  
  
“In you come.”  Robbie tugged him by the elbow.  
  
  
  
James’s mouth dropped open as he walked through to the living area.  The candles were all lit, and were the only lighting; Robbie must have turned off the lights when James knocked, because James knew he would have noticed this from the outside.  The grapes were on the coffee table, flanked by two glasses of champagne while the telly displayed the main menu from their favourite Bond movie.  
  
“S– Robbie?  Doctor Hobson?”  James’s eyes were bright with mischief.  
  
“Sit down, James.”  Robbie spoke firmly.  “Laura’s not here and I couldn’t let all this go to waste on one.”  
  
James dropped into the couch, took the offered glass of champagne from Robbie’s hand, and swallowed down half in one gulp, blinking furiously when the bubbles went back up his nose.  
  
Robbie held up his own glass.  “Cheers.  Movie first or would you like a debrief on the evening?”  
  
James was appalled.  “I could never... I’d never presume...”  
  
“James.”  Robbie laughed, cutting him off.  “I want to tell you.  Hell, I have to tell you – you’re the only other person who’ll understand.  She took us to the same restaurant, man.”  
  
James’s slow grin lit his eyes, and he relaxed back against the couch.  “I believe Mr Bond can wait.”

 

*****

 

James wiped away silent tears of laughter.  He hadn’t been able to speak for a few minutes and Robbie was beginning to get worried.  
  
“Getting.  Ricky.  Again,” he finally gasped.  “What were.  The odds?”  James sipped eagerly at the glass of water Robbie had brought him when he thought James was going to choke.  “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Aye, you should be.”  Robbie failed to look suitably upset, setting James off again.  “You wouldn’t be laughing so much if it had been you there.  Ricky may think I’m a bastard, but he’d have been hounding you for your phone number.”  
  
James took a large, hiccupping breath and pushed himself up properly in his seat.  “Oh, I’d have given him yours.”  
  
“Sod.”  He couldn’t be angry at James.  “At least Laura’ll keep her word and not say anything.  And she’ll protect you if she hears any rumours.  However, I’m certain she’ll think twice about inviting me anywhere in future, birthday or not.”   
  
James tilted his head and studied Robbie.  “Why?”   
  
“She said, ‘ _Sounds like you had a better time with James than with me – you didn’t try to flirt with me once._ ’”  He sighed thoughfully.  “Ah, Laura and me, we’re just meant to be mates.  Chalk and cheese us.  It’d never work.  You and me, on the other hand, we’re a bit like odd peas in a pod.”   
  
James was a little tipsy, having drunk the best part of half of bottle of champagne on an empty stomach.  “Such a shame,” he pondered.  
  
 _What?  It’s a shame Laura and I are just mates, or it’s a shame you and I are two peas in a pod?_   Robbie didn’t like either of those.  
  
James rested his head against the couch.  “Now I’ll never know if Dr Hobson would appreciate my taste in fine linen or my bed-making skills.”  
  
Robbie relaxed.  “It is your linen, then?  Don’t know how you put up with this scratchy couch if you’re used to sleeping on that.”  
  
“It’s your linen now.  Happy Birthday.”  He held up his glass in a toast.  “It’s new, but I washed it first, you know, get that new smell out of it like you’re supposed to.”  
  
“Oh.  Thanks, lad, I’ll make sure to make good use of it.  Don’t think I’ve ever slept on something that luxurious before.”  Robbie exhaled a contented sigh.  “I think Mr Bond’ll have to wait for another day now.  Looking at you, it’s time for bed.  We can compare notes on bedding in the morning.”   
  
As Robbie stood to clear the table he thought he heard a quiet gasp from James.  He looked at James, who seemed to be waiting for something.  
  
“You right to put your formidable bed-making skills to the task of making the couch comfy again?” Robbie asked kindly.  “You know where everything is, though I’m afraid I don’t have anything quite as rich as Egyptian cotton on offer.  I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?  Night, James.”  
  
“Yeah.  Goodnight.”   
  
Robbie paused as he reached the bedroom door.  James had sounded – disappointed?  He turned and watched James as he was rearranging the cushions; Robbie had noticed he set them up the same way every time.  There was a heaviness to James’s movements that Robbie hadn’t seen for some time, and he saw James’s expectant face in his mind.  _Oh.  You idiot, Robert Lewis._   Mentally kicking himself, Robbie walked back to James, startling him when he placed his hand in the small of his back.  
  
“What you did tonight, all of it, it was very thoughtful, even if you were just doing it as a wind-up.  You put a lot of care into it all.”  James replied with a small, shy nod.  Robbie slid his hand up to James’s shoulder.  “Thank you.  I’m really pleased I got to share some of my birthday with you after all.  Come on, let’s see how good your bed-making skills really are, and whether they can survive both of us – I still only need half the bed.”  Robbie grinned.  “And I’m pretty sure our reputations are still intact from last time.”   
  
Robbie could see the burden lifting from James; he wondered if he’d ever find out if it was uncertainly, disappointment or longing that had weighed him down, but right now it didn’t really matter.  
  
In the bedroom, Robbie handed him the pyjamas he’d found last time.  “Kept these aside in case you ever needed them again.”  
  
James disappeared into the bathroom while Robbie changed in the bedroom.  He remembered the last and only time James had slept beside him.  It had been the best night’s sleep he’d had in years, and the joy of waking up next to someone he truly cared about had kept him in good spirits for several days, in spite of what work had thrown at him.  The memory warmed him.  
  
He used the bathroom after James and when he came out, James was already curled up on the right side, facing the centre of the bed.   
  
Robbie switched off the lights and slipped under the covers, lying on his side with his back to James.  The sheets were even more wonderful as they draped softly around his body.  “Goodnight, James.”  A deep yawn almost swallowed his words.  
  
He felt James shift closer, and an arm rested over his.  James pressed up against his back and kissed his shoulder through the fabric of his pyjamas.  “Good night Robbie,” he whispered, “and Happy Birthday.”  Robbie felt the loss as James turned away, only to have it replaced by the warmth of James’s back against his own.  Satisfied, and very happy, Robbie drifted into a deep, not quite dreamless sleep.  



	5. We Wish You A Merry Christmas

Though they had to work around the impending arrival of Hannah, James and Robbie’s plans for Christmas progressed smoothly.  As predicted, Innocent was happy for them to be off from Christmas Eve through to Boxing Day but they had to be back in by noon on the 27th; it was the longest she could do without them.  Tim and Lyn had moved into a semi-detached house, not too far from their old flat, and although they now had room for guests Robbie had insisted he and James would stay at the B&B.   
  
“You don’t need two extra people underfoot with a new baby.  Next visit, love, I promise we’ll stay with you.  You need to get your routines sorted, for the whole family’s sake.”  He most definitely wasn’t going to mention – either to her or James – that he also wanted some much longed for private time with James, away from Oxford’s nosey eyes.  
  
Since Robbie’s birthday their relationship had changed; James called it ‘the growth of us’.  It wasn’t much more than the occasional hug at the end of a long day – James had never kissed him again in any context – lazy nights in front of the telly with James curled up at his side, and an agreement that there definitely _was_ something beyond friendship here, far more than just a shared affection and attraction.  James now always slept in Robbie’s bed when he stayed, and had even brought over his own pillow.  Robbie hoped Christmas and a couple of days away from Oxford would benefit them both.  
  
  
  
They took their time driving up to Manchester on Christmas Eve.  They were going to Lyn’s for Christmas lunch, and staying into the evening; Lyn had predicted the morning would be more than a little manic as the young family were spending Christmas Eve with Tim’s family, and traditionally that was a late, sugar-laden event.  Robbie had been disappointed when he thought he would miss seeing Thom open his presents Christmas morning, especially as Thom was now old enough to understand what was happening.  However, Lyn had told him they were going to tell Thom Santa said he couldn’t open anything until Grumpa and Uncle James were there.  While Robbie felt a little sorry for the wee man, he’d shed a quiet, happy tear after talking to Lyn.   
  
Another couple were at the reception desk as he and James pushed through the doors of the B &B.  Standing behind them, Robbie and James couldn’t help overhearing their request.  
  
“We’re in a double room but we haven’t slept in the same bed for years – he has ‘restless legs’ and keeps me awake.  Is there really _no_ possibility of changing rooms?”  
  
“I’m sorry, we’re fully booked; there are still some guests who haven’t checked in – the best I can do at this stage is see if any are happy to switch rooms.”  
  
As the woman’s shoulders sagged, Robbie and James exchanged a look; Robbie murmured to James, “I can live with it if you can.”  James cocked his head and smiled, a gentle gaze that made Robbie’s stomach flip; he smiled back as he felt his heart beat faster and stepped forward before he lost his nerve.  “Excuse me, we’ve booked a twin; we’re happy to swap if that suits.” 

 

*****

 

Robbie struggled to understand why he felt so nervous.  He and James had been sharing a bed at least twice a week for several months now; this should be easy and comfortable, yet Robbie felt like an awkward teenager.  When they’d arrived back after dinner at the pub, Robbie had grabbed his towel and pyjamas and rushed into the bathroom, leaving James standing by the door bewildered.  
  
When he emerged from the bathroom, James was sitting on the left side of the bed – Robbie’s side.  He didn’t say anything, simply watched Robbie with eyes that asked _what’s wrong_.  Robbie sat next to him with a sigh.  “I honestly don’t know, I just feel...”  James tilted his head, kissed Robbie’s cheek, soft and lingering slightly, before taking himself to the bathroom.  Without uttering a word, James had righted Robbie’s world.   
  
  
  
James came out of shower and found Robbie softly curled on his side, half asleep; he switched off the lamp and slid under the covers.  He slipped an arm around Robbie’s waist, and pressed his face to the back of Robbie’s neck as he whispered, “Good night, Robbie.”  When Robbie mumbled, “Night, pet,” James smiled against his neck.  Leaving a small kiss, James rolled onto his other side, wriggling back until he was brushing Robbie’s back.  He fell asleep, contentment washing over his face.

 

*****

 

James woke to the sound of Robbie softly humming Christmas carols.  He rolled onto his back, towards the sound, and lazily blinked his eyes open.  He felt the mattress shift as Robbie propped himself up on his elbow, his body tucked close to James’s side.  
  
“Merry Christmas, James.”  Robbie’s smile stirred a low heat in James’s belly.  
  
“Merry Christmas, Robbie,” James whispered, afraid anything louder might wake him up, for it had to be a dream.  
  
James held his breath as Robbie leant in and kissed him.  On the lips.  With pressure and intent.  As Robbie drew away, James’s head and hand came up and he eagerly returned the kiss, bringing Robbie to him.  Then things went a little mad.  
  
Robbie’s mouth opened willingly to James’s impatient tongue as it swept along his lower lip, before pushing its way past lips and teeth.  As the kiss deepened, Robbie slipped his hand under James’s top, fingers tracing lean muscle as he sought James’s nipples.  As rough fingertips brushed over sensitive, stimulated flesh James gasped and thrust his hips up off the bed.   
  
James’s brain fought frantically to keep up, to process.  That Robbie cared for him, he had no doubt – his acceptance of James’s past experience, his sacrifice at Lent, and his birthday, dear God, his birthday.  He’d eventually bribed the whole truth out of Dr Hobson and had wept more tears of laughter, joy and love in the quiet of his flat.  But this passion, this desire – he’d never dreamt his beloved Robbie had this hidden within.  Beloved?  Oh, yes, very much so.  
  
James’s thigh brushed against Robbie’s groin and there was no doubt in James’s mind that Robbie was as aroused as he was.  James desperately wanted to free his rock-hard cock from the confines of his now-twisted pyjama bottoms, but was unwilling to let go of Robbie in case it all faded into darkness.   
  
  
  
Robbie fought between panic and letting himself drown in James.  He had long since stopped arguing with himself all the reasons why this should never be but, even as he had quietly pursued James, he could never completely dismiss the facts from his mind.  So many opportunities had been lost to the voice of cold reason and chilled by the finger of doubt.  No more.  Robbie pushed away the voices that judged him and clung to the one which had quietly guided him – Val’s.  She might not have understood why he had chosen James, but she would have accepted it, and been thankful that he had found love again – of that he was certain.  Heart and mind at peace, Robbie banished his fears to the past and reached forward for James with renewed desire.  
  
  
  
Tugging hard on one sleeve, James succeeded in pulling Robbie on top of him.  He wriggled around, alternately pulling or nudging Robbie, until their cocks, separated by thin, soft cloth, rubbed together.  Momentarily startled, Robbie briefly pulled away from James, breaking the kiss.  James stared into his eyes for a second and saw all he needed to.  He bucked his hips once against Robbie and sighed happily as Robbie reclaimed his mouth.  With all clear thought now out the window, James started to rock against Robbie’s hard cock, trying to get as much friction between them as he could.  Robbie started to rock with him, matching his rhythm and increasing the pace.   
  
Rocking gave way to thrusting and James was very aware he was past the point of no return.  He buried his face against Robbie’s shoulder, muffling his cry as he came hard in his pyjamas.  Before the pulsing of his own orgasm had passed, James felt Robbie come, thrusting hard against his groin, a long shuddering sigh ghosting down the side of James’s neck.  
  
  
  
As his breathing settled, Robbie raised himself up on his elbows and off James’s chest.  A wonder-struck James gazed up at him, eyes still dark with desire, lips red and swollen, stubble rash livid against the pale skin of his neck and throat.  Robbie could feel the tingling of his own lips and neck and deduced he looked the same.   
  
Robbie kissed the inflamed skin under James’s ear – soft, slow and wet – following the line of his jaw to his mouth.  James cradled Robbie’s neck and surrendered to his mouth.  
  
  
  
Long minutes passed as their bodies and minds calmed.  Hands explored carefully.  Robbie lifted his head and looked on James with such tenderness that James felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes.  
  
James found his voice first, quietly stunned.  “I... you’ve never... this was...”  
  
“Unexpected?”   
  
“A bit, yeah.”  
  
“I had a life before Val – twenty-odd years of it.  When I chose Val, I chose that part of me too.”  
  
James started to speak as he interpreted what Robbie hadn’t said, and Robbie stopped him with another kiss.  
  
“There’s plenty of time for history later.”  He kissed him again, tasting the skin against his collarbone and drawing ragged sighs from James, who was getting hard again.  Robbie chuckled, “I’m going to have my work cut out for me keeping up with you.”  
  
  
  
James brow creased and his eyes were distant.  Robbie knew it meant James was puzzled and unsure, and the doubts began to creep in once again.  
  
“Are you okay with this, pet, am I out of line here?  These past months – no, that’s not right, it’s years... have I been reading things wrong.”  
  
James hurried to soothe him.  “No, not out of line, God, no, you’ve read me right...  I...  I suppose...  I always thought I’d be the one making the first move – taking the leap of faith – when I thought I had nothing to lose and everything to gain.  I think I should have seen this coming but you caught me by surprise.”  He laughed gleefully.  “Christmas morning’s really the best time for surprises, isn’t it?”  James was grinning like a child who’d received the one present he desperately wanted but never expected to actually get.  
  
“Aye it is, though it’s probably one surprise Lyn doesn’t need, so we’ll have to watch that.”  
  
James nodded and started to sit up, abruptly stopping and pulling a face.  It was a cross between disgust and embarrassment.  “Ugh.  I need to get out of these pyjamas before they stick to me, although I think I might be too late.”  
  
Robbie grimaced.  “I’d offer to help but I seem have the same problem and that shower’s not big enough for two.”  
  
Blushing, James wriggled to the edge of the bed, slipped his legs out and stood up carefully, pinching fingers holding the stained cloth away from his groin.  He looked sheepishly at Robbie.  “Last time I got up like this, I was thirteen and terrified one of the older boys would catch me and give me shit for the rest of my days.  I couldn’t get to the showers fast enough then, either.”  
  
“Well, hurry up, man.”  Robbie was trying not to laugh.  “Can you toss us out a washcloth?  I’ll not get these bottoms off if I stay like this much longer.”  Blushing furiously, James waddled into the bathroom.  Robbie heard the soft whomp of clothing hitting the tiled floor followed by the sound of running water.  “C’mon, lad,” Robbie teased.  “How long does it take you to...”  James walked out, wrapped in a towel that sat low on his hips, and handed Robbie a warm, damp washcloth.  
  
“I didn’t think you’d appreciate cold water.”  The sight of him, naked except for the towel, and his smile caused a stirring in Robbie’s groin.  
  
“Go on, get back in there,” Robbie said softly.  “We’ll miss breakfast if we don’t hurry up – and I’m starving.”  
  
“I wonder why?”  James closed the door, muffling Robbie’s answer.

 

*****

 

Lyn threw the door open, happy tears streaking her face.  Barely pregnant when they’d been up at Easter, she now carried a small pink bundle, held close to her body in a baby sling.  Thom came pelting up the passage, yelling, “Grumpa, Unca Jame, Grumpa, Unca Jame, Grampa, mumma has Han, see Han.”  Robbie scooped Thom up before he could trip Lyn, and the wee boy wriggled, twisting around so he could peer down into the sling.  “Han Thom’s!”  
  
Robbie chuckled as he stretched carefully to kiss Lyn, desperately trying not to drop the squirming toddler, and was relieved when James, over the shock of the exuberant welcome, lifted Thom from his arms and settled him against his hip.  
  
“James, you’re a natural,” Lyn remarked, with a cheeky smile.  
  
“I’m observant and quick study,” he replied a little too hastily.  Robbie was almost certain he’d been practicing that answer but let it go.  Lyn would soon drop her notion of James being a father once she found out...  _Best not to think of that now._  
  
This was the first time they’d seen Hannah in the flesh.  Tim and Lyn had Skyped them from the hospital (Robbie had been grateful they were both too tired to ask what James was doing in his flat at six on a Sunday morning) and, while he’d been shown fingers and toes and heard her strong hungry cries, Robbie had been anxious to get here and hold her.   
  
  
  
James stood quietly in the background as Lyn placed the tiny baby in Robbie’s arms.  He watched, mesmerised, as Robbie’s face softened and his eyes misted up, as his fingers traced the tiny features and counted fingers and toes.  Even Thom had gone quiet and still.  
  
“Ah, she’s perfect, Lyn, love.  Reminds me of you.”  He looked at her and grinned.  “You were a hell of a lot noisier though.”  
  
“Trust me, she’s got a great set of lungs and knows how to use them.”  Tim was leaning against the doorway watching them.   
  
“Tim.”  James stepped forward, shaking Tim’s hand.  “Merry Christmas.”  
  
“Merry Christmas, James.”  He gave James an odd, appraising look; it was there for a fraction of a second and gone, but James had caught it.  Robbie was too besotted in his grand-daughter to notice, and it took a nudge from Lyn before he was even aware of Tim.   
  
A quiet flurry of welcomes, kisses, handshakes and hugs ensued, while Thom ran around in an excited whirl before he grasping Robbie’s wrist in both hands and attempting to drag him to the living room.  
  
“Whoa, wee man, where’s the fire?”  
  
“Thom, it’ll be much easier if you don’t pull Grumpa over, remember he’s got Hannah.”  Lyn was giggling as Thom strained to pull Robbie along.  “It’s the presents, Dad.  He’s been waiting for you and James like Santa asked him to.  He’s been very good, haven’t you, Thom?”  
  
James and Tim followed them through, James handing Tim the bag of presents they’d bought with them, and claimed the chairs furthest from the tree, letting Robbie, still cradling Hannah, sit with Lyn and Thom.  The presents had been chosen with care after a series of emails and phone calls.  Robbie had been completely at a loss and, despite wanting to do something special to mark their new home and Hannah, was going to settle for gift cards.  One night, lying in bed, James had suggested emailing Tim and Lyn separately – Robbie contacting Tim and James, Lyn – and asking for ideas.  Robbie had kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner.    
  
James sat back and watched happily as Thom sat on the floor at Robbie’s feet and opened his presents.  Tim soon joined Thom to help him with the trickier parcels, and James slipped lower in his seat, relishing the warmth of a family Christmas and watching the years fall away from Robbie.  He caught Tim watching him watching Robbie, but only gave the briefest concern to what Tim was thinking.  The look was curious, thoughtful.  Had there been the slightest trace of distaste or judgment, James would have altered his behaviour.  As it was, it seemed a moot point now.  Time would tell what conclusions Tim had drawn.  James’s instincts told him they had nothing to worry about.  
  
James was still lost in his thoughts when he felt a pressure on his arm.  Lyn was resting on the arm of the chair, smiling indulgently down at him.  “Are you in there James?  Merry Christmas.”  She gave him a small parcel and a kiss.  “Go on, Thom’s finished – adults’ turn now and alphabetically, you’re first.  
  
“Alphabetically?  You give out gifts alphabetically?”  He looked at Robbie and back to Lyn to make sure they weren’t taking the mickey.  
  
Lyn explained, “Once Mark and I were old enough to get ourselves up and organised in the morning, it was the only way Mum could stop Mark ripping open all his presents at four o’clock.  He had to wait until I’d opened mine, L coming before M, or else Santa would take them all back.  Once he realised –”  Her voice dropped to a whisper.  “You know, about Santa, then the threat was that Dad would take everything back to the shop.  You can scoff, James Hathaway, but it worked.”  
  
“And Mark didn’t harass you to open yours early?  I would have!”  
  
Robbie chuckled.  “Why doesn’t that bloody surprise me?”  
  
“Dad, not in front of Thom!”  
  
“Sorry, love.”  James snorted at Robbie’s chagrin.  
  
“He tried it once.”  Lyn returned to James.  “I told him, if he kept it up I wouldn’t open mine until Boxing Day.”  
  
“Did he stop?”  
  
“No,” Robbie interjected.  “And the presents sat unopened until Boxing Day.  Take that as a warning, Tim.  What a nightmare that Christmas Day was.”  
  
“Say what you mean, follow through on your word, and don’t give in to the bullies.  Learnt that off you and mum, so you had no-one to blame but yourselves; I was just doing what I was taught.”  
  
James looked at Lyn with new admiration.  “How old were you?”  
  
“Nine.”  She grinned proudly.  
  
“Nine going on bloody twenty,” muttered Robbie good-humouredly.  
  
“Dad!”  
  
“Robbie!”  
  
“Sir!”  
  
Robbie raised his hands in surrender.

 

*****

 

Robbie was pleased and surprised when a full Christmas lunch was served up, and they shared a slow, relaxed meal.  They talked about past Christmases – a conversation notable for James’s lack of input – and plans Lyn had for the house.  Hannah was in her bassinette next to Lyn’s chair, and Thom was under the table with Wilson and Brewster.  When Tim and Robbie started talking about rugby and football over the plum duff, James followed Lyn into the kitchen and volunteered to help clear up.  Lyn wasn’t having any of it.  
  
“You’re our guest.  All I’m doing today is getting the food back in the fridge, and loading up the dishwasher.  I have no intention of doing anything else.”  
  
James was insistent.  “I like to be useful – ask your Dad.”   
  
“Let him help, love, otherwise he’ll spend all of January apologising to me for _not_ helping.”  
  
From the table, Robbie had a clear view to the kitchen.  As he and Tim talked, he could watch Lyn and James.  He wasn’t surprised that they worked well together; though James could be stubborn and independent, he also followed instructions well (when he chose or it was required of him).  Robbie noticed Tim studying him; he’d seen Tim watching James, and knew that James had been aware of the scrutiny.  Robbie wasn’t concerned; he was certain he and James had done nothing out of the ordinary.  But it never hurt to deflect attention.  “Lyn, that was amazing, how on earth did you manage it all without tearing your hair out?  I mean, huge meal, house spotless, everything in its place – yet Hannah must take up a lot of time, and Thom: I’d be battling to give you beans on toast if I was in your shoes.”  
  
“Tim’s been on holiday this week; it’s amazing the difference it makes when there’s two of you prepping, cooking, bathing _and_ changing nappies,” Lyn explained.  “Feeding, however, was all mine.”  
  
Tim nodded sagely.  “Ah, we tried, but Hannah wasn’t having a bar of it.  It was her mum or no-one.  The midwife very kindly told me it was the one task I was ill-equipped for.  But I’m brilliant at nappies – I can hold my breath longer than Lyn.”  
  
James’s look of horror when he understood was priceless.   
  
“How long can you hold your breath for, James?” Lyn asked mischievously.  “Perhaps you should do the next one?”   
  
“Do honorary uncles have to change nappies?”  His voice was calm and only Robbie registered the minute tightening across his shoulders.  
  
“Who said you were ‘honorary’?” exclaimed Lyn.  “You’re certainly not ‘honorary’ to Thom, nor will you be to Hannah.  ‘Uncle James’ you’re called and ‘Uncle James’ you are.  Otherwise you’d just be ‘James’.”  
  
James turned, his eyes pleading silently with Robbie.  “No use looking at me, mate.  I’ve changed Thom and I’ve no doubt I’ll be changing Hannah sometime today.  ‘Bout time you learnt how; what d’you think, Lyn love?”  
  
“S’okay James.”  Lyn winked at him.  “Hannah and I will be gentle.  C’mon then, she’s probably due.  Dad, Tim, can you...?”  
  
James sighed, resigned to his fate and followed Lyn out of the kitchen.

 

*****

 

James dropped onto the couch next to Robbie and let his head rest on Robbie’s shoulder.   
  
“Buck up, man, it wasn’t that bad surely – you must’ve seen worse in your time?”  
  
“She’s so little.  How does something so tiny and sweet produce so much...”  James shuddered.  “I’m going to wash my hands again.”  Robbie chuckled as James pushed off his knee to standing.   
  
Tim brought Thom into the living room.  “Mummy’s feeding Hannah, we have to stay here.”  Thom pouted.   
  
“Jealousy?”  Robbie watched Thom.   
  
Tim nodded.  “Afternoon and evening feeds – mornings he’s fine.”  
  
“C’mon, Thom.”  Robbie lowered himself onto the floor.  “Show us your new train set Santa brought you.”   
  
James returned to the living area.  “Um, Tim, do you mind if I make a cup of tea?”  
  
“Go ahead, do you know where everything is?”  
  
James nodded.  “D’you want one?  Robbie?”  
  
“Ta, James, that’d be grand.  Need something to push the last of the plum duff down.”  He stretched back and loosened off his belt.  “Oh, that’s better.”  
  
Tim stood up.  “You all right here with Thom?  I need to see Lyn for a minute.”  
  
“Aye, fine, on you go lad; Thom and I are busy here.”  
  
Robbie could hear James rattling around in the kitchen as Tim’s footsteps disappeared upstairs.  
  
“Grumpa.  Need Ted.  Need Ted in twain.”  
  
“An’ Ted’s in bed I suppose.”  
  
Thom nodded solemnly.  “Is it just Ted you need?  No-one else?”  Thom blinked, thought, and shook his head.  “Okay.  James, keep an ear out for Thom, will ya?”  
  
“Yep.”  James’s head popped around the door.  
  
Thom’s room was next to Lyn’s.  Robbie could hear Lyn and Tim talking as he walked past – and stopped dead in his tracks.  
  
“Lyn, honey, maybe it’s just my imagination, but I’d swear something’s changed between your dad and James.”  
  
“Oh, thank God you see it too – what do you see exactly?”  Robbie thought she sounded worried.  
  
“Well,” Tim stammered, and Robbie heard him take a deep breath.  “James looks like he wants to jump your Dad and your Dad looks like he’d let him.”  
  
Lyn sighed.  
  
“Oh, God, what did _you_ see?” Tim asked nervously.  Robbie wished he could see their faces even though he knew he should just grab Thom’s bear and run downstairs.  
  
“The same.  I just thought it was my imagination.”  
  
“What are you going to do?”  
  
“What can I do?  What _should_ I do?  It’s not like Dad’s a… I mean, he’s never, not that I’m aware of, I, that is, I don’t remember Mum ever saying anything, so… I don’t know.”  
  
Robbie quietly moved to where he could peek through the gap between the door frame and the door.  He could see Lyn’s reflection in the dressing table mirror and prayed she couldn’t see him.  He thought she looked puzzled more than anything else.  She was shaking her head as she watched Hannah feed.  
  
“I don’t know.  He’s an adult, he’s my dad, he’s not one of those people who does things on a whim, certainly nothing like that.He’s always been so solid, so… _straight_.”  
  
“Mid-life crisis?  
  
“Maybe… but I don’t think so.”  
  
From his vantage point, Robbie saw the bed sag, and Tim’s reflection appeared in the mirror.  Tim’s arm slipped around Lyn and he gently pulled her head down onto his shoulder.  Robbie had to move closer to hear what he was saying.  “Does it matter?  I mean, what would change if they were… involved?  You’ve been telling me for past couple of years that James has been good for your dad – what if this is an extension, no, a natural progression of that?”  
  
Lyn made a small choking nose and pulled away.  “Tim!” she exclaimed in a loud whisper.  Robbie cringed at the horror in her voice.  “It was bad enough when I figured out the weird noises from mum and dad’s room were them having sex!  It was – disgusting.”  
  
Tim surprised Robbie by chuckling.  “Every kid thinks that way – I still feel that way about dad and my step-mum.  Thom and Hannah will be like that with us.”  
  
Softly, sadly, Lyn responded, “But James is a man.”  
  
“Lyn Louise Lewis-Walsh, I’m appalled at you.”  Tim’s voice was light and fond.  “Such words from the woman who wanted to dance on tables after Craig and Paul’s civil partnership ceremony.”  Tim was smiling fondly now, and Robbie could see Lyn wavering.  
  
“And I would have if I wasn’t six-months pregnant.  But it’s my dad,” she said softly, leaning against Tim again.  “And there was mum.”  
  
“You’ve told me how much he loved your mum.  He’ll never stop loving her.  My dad still loves my mum, even though she’s been gone fifteen years and he’s remarried.  He loves her in a different way now; I don’t really understand it, probably won’t unless I’m in his shoes.  Would you deny your dad a second chance at love?  At being happy?  Would your mum have wanted him to be happy or stay lonely for her memory?”

  
“Love?  Oh.”  Lyn had Hannah on her shoulder now, tired and full.  Lyn was quiet and thoughtful.  
  
“Yes, silly – love.  It’s not solely the domain of the young, you know.”  
  
“You think James loves him?”  
  
“And I think he loves James.  It usually works best when it’s both ways.”  
  
“GRUMPA!!!”    
  
Robbie momentarily froze before gathering his wits and slipping across the hall into the bathroom, his heart pounding in his ears.  At Thom’s wail, Tim had leapt up off the bed and Lyn’s head had swivelled towards the door.  Robbie didn’t think he’d been seen but he had no way of knowing.  When he heard someone step into the hallway, Robbie flushed the toilet and washed his hands, calling out, “I’m coming, Thom, keep your nappy on!”  
  
He stepped into the hallway to find both Lyn and Tom staring at the bathroom door, and hoped he didn’t look as caught out as he felt.  “Thom wants... I was just...” He stepped towards Thom’s door and was stopped by Lyn’s hand on his arm.  
  
She stretched up and kissed him.  “I love you, Dad, and I want you to be happy.  And if that’s James...”  
  
Lyn, Robbie and Tim all turned their heads at a soft, astonished _Oh,_ to see James, eyes wide and round like a startled puppy, standing at the top of the stairs with Thom in his arms.  
  
Tim moved first, taking Thom from James, who stood slack-jawed and frozen in place.  “Whiskey all round I think.  C’mon, Thom, me boy, daddy’s ‘special tea’ time.  There’s an open bottle in the kitchen.”  
  
“Dad?”  Lyn’s hand slipped up Robbie’s arm, bringing her attention back to him.  “D’you want to come downstairs.  Talk about it?  You don’t have to,” she added quickly.  “Neither of you.  If Tim and I...”  
  
“Whiskey and a chat sounds... practical and needed.  James, lad, are you okay?”  
  
James nodded mutely and let Robbie guide him downstairs.  James stopped at the foot of the stairs, a puzzled frown creasing his brow.  Robbie waved at Lyn to go through, indicating they would follow.  
  
“James?  Talk to me.  Please.”  
  
“I’m sorry, I never meant for...”  
  
“James, love, Lyn’s always been observant, and she knows me – better than I think she realises.  It wouldn’t have taken much, not after this morning.  We’ve probably been telegraphing it without...”  
  
James had snorted.  It was the last sound Robbie had expected.  “Sorry, _telegraphing?_ ” _  
  
_ Robbie looked long and hard at James.  He wasn’t panicking.  _A bit stunned.  Caught off-guard.  At least I heard the conversation, had a bit of a warning._   He slipped an arm around James’s waist and pulled him close.  “You ready to face the music?”  
  
James gently tilted Robbie’s chin and kissed him once.  “I am now.”  
  
*  
  
“Lyn, you’re staring at us like you’re expecting something to happen – it’s a bit disconcerting, love.”  
  
“Oh God, sorry Dad, I, um, sorry.”  
  
“You were looking for something like this, perhaps?” James asked softly, as he picked up Robbie’s hand and held it between his own.  
  
Lyn blushed, screwed her eyes tight and nodded quickly.  
  
James continued, “Is this okay or would you rather we didn’t?  Your home, your rules.”  
  
Lyn smiled at James’s gentleness, a tear glistening in the corner of her eye.  “It doesn’t bother me.  Tim?”  
  
He smiled fondly at Lyn.  “I was Craig and Paul’s best man – what do you think?”  
  
Lyn laughed at herself.  “God, I’m such a dolt sometimes.  So, Dad, James?  Just how long has this been going on?”  She clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes growing large with embarrassment.  “Oh, oh, I’m sorry Dad, I didn’t...”  She covered her face with her hands, peeking out between her fingers when Robbie laughed.   
  
“Heaven help Thom and Hannah when they’re older if you’re like this with your old dad now!  It’s a fair question though.  Not sure I – we – can give you a solid answer.”  Robbie took a long swallow; it was very good whiskey and went down far too easily.  Robbie knew he should watch himself and James but, as the cat was out of the bag, it probably didn’t matter too much.  “Honestly, I think it would be fair to say it’s been building for some time, quite possibly since the day we met.”  
  
“Are you for me?” James murmured.  
  
“What?”  Robbie caught James’s eye.  
  
“They were the first words you said to me – you were jetlagged, maybe you don’t...”  
  
“Aye, I remember – you and your fancy lettered sign – you weren’t happy about picking me up, that was clear.  The one thing I’ll never forget – you could have quietly refused when I wanted to go to the churchyard, but you didn’t.  Without question you took me and stood by quietly and respectfully while I talked to Val.  That meant a lot to me then, and now.”  
  
James ducked his head, not quite hiding a bashful, pleased smile.   
  
Robbie looked across at Lyn and Tim.  “I guess it _is_ safe to say it started then, and I suppose we’ve been dancing around each other in one way or another ever since, but nothing really happened until...”  
  
“Until Lent this year,” James continued, “When Robbie made the huge sacrifice of giving up alcohol with me when there was no logical reason for him to do so.  I think I fell a little bit in love with you then.”  James squeezed his hand.  
  
“Then there was James’s birthday...”  
  
“Your dad baked me a cake, did he tell you that?”  
  
The whiskey flowed, as did the stories.  Lyn, who wasn’t drinking, went into uncontrollable giggles when Robbie told them about Ricky, worrying Thom so much he climbed up onto her lap to make sure she was okay; and while James told them how he’d set up Robbie’s flat for his ‘date’ with Laura, Robbie was grateful that he ‘forgot’ about the sheets, and there was certainly no mention of sharing beds.  No matter how accepting Lyn and Tim were, there were some details they probably didn’t need to hear at this point.  
  
  
  
Thom fell asleep on the couch and Lyn went to Hannah when she woke.  Studying the near-empty whiskey bottle Tim, who was still nursing his second drink, excused himself to put some food together.  He was fine, but if they didn’t try to get something solid into Robbie and James he knew Lyn would have something to say.   
  
  
  
More than a little drunk, though quite capable of making a decision, and feeling very secure with his surroundings, Robbie put his glass on the table; he took great care to centre it on the coaster.  He held James’s hand and lightly massaged the palm and fingers.  He smiled up at James and gradually pulled him towards himself until he could lean in and kiss him.  Robbie knew it was most likely the whiskey, but he felt like a teenager sneaking a kiss in his parent’s living room, and his heart beat a little faster.  James responded enthusiastically, and Robbie began to feel reckless.   
  
“Grumpa, why you kissin’ Unca Jame?”  They leapt apart at the little voice and looked guiltily at Thom; they had no idea how long he’d been awake or how much of the kiss he’d seen.  James nudged Robbie.  
  
“Didn’t I once hear you tell Lyn you should be honest with kids because they’ll only figure things out for themselves later and then you have a lot of explaining to do?”  
  
Robbie blinked at James and back at Thom.  “Because I love Uncle James.”  
  
Thom studied them intently for a moment, in the manner of most toddlers and cats.  “Unca Jame lub Grumpa?”  
  
James nodded earnestly.  “Yes, Uncle James loves Grumpa,” he intoned, matching the boy’s grave tone.  
  
Thom stared, unblinking, and Robbie and James were at a loss.  Then Thom smiled brightly, chirped, “Okay,” and plodded into the kitchen to find his father.   
  
James pressed a fist to his mouth to stifle the giggles of relief, giving up when Robbie made no effort to stop his.   
  
“What on earth...?”  Lyn stared opened mouthed at James and Robbie as they leant against each other, shaking with laughter.  Tim walked in with a plate of sandwiches and a pot of tea.  Lyn sighed.  “Oh thank goodness.”

 

*****

 

“So, what about work?”  Tim had been relatively quiet, content to listen to the conversation and process the information; however, he’d been puzzling over that question for a while.  “I can’t imagine you’ll have the easiest time there?  I mean, I know there are anti-discrimination laws that would protect you, but historically the police force, like the military, isn’t the most accommodating of institutions.”  James looked at Robbie, the whiskey leaving them slightly befuddled.   
  
“Haven’t really thought that far ahead,” James reflected.  “S’pose we’ll have to deal with it at some point, but not right now.  Besides, we’ve not done much more than... erm, so...”  
  
Tim snorted and Lyn giggled.  “Hmm, yes.”  She wrinkled her nose.  “Thom told us.”  
  
“Oh, sorry love,” Robbie mumbled.  “I thought he was still asleep.  Still, no real harm done; he didn’t seem too bothered by it.”  
  
“He might only be two, but he has some concept of love.”  Lyn tested the waters, watching them carefully.  “You were truthful with Thom, weren’t you?”  
  
Robbie turned to James, who was looking hopefully at him.  His answer was for James as much as Lyn.  “Aye, I was.”  
  
“As was I,” James whispered.  
  
“Thom, come help mummy and daddy, sweetheart.”  Lyn stood up abruptly, filled with an overwhelming need to give James and her dad some privacy.  Tim quietly gathered the tea things and took them away.  
  
*  
  
A few minutes later, Robbie was leaning against the doorframe; being upright was a small challenge.  “It’s quite safe, we’re both decent and James’s virtue’s intact.”   
  
Tim grinned cheekily.  “I trust James isn’t too disappointed.”  
  
James voice rang clear from the living room.  “I am, God damn it, I am.”  
  
“Pay him no mind.”  Robbie felt himself blush.  “He’s a bit drunk.”  
  
“He’s not the only one, Dad,” Lyn scolded.  “Let’s get you back on the couch.”  
  
James was sprawled in the corner of the couch, his head tipped back so he could see the kitchen door.  Robbie thought he looked younger than he had in some time, and wasn’t very surprised when Lyn also noticed.  
  
“Dad...”  She squeezed onto the couch next to him and James.  “What about the...  you’re a bit...  James isn’t much older than me.”  
  
Robbie was quiet for some time, his stillness attracting Thom, who shimmied up onto his knee and curled up under his chin.  
  
James glanced at Robbie, his face curious but unconcerned.  Robbie held Thom close and took several deep breaths before finally giving Lyn an answer.  “We’ve still got a lot to sort through, but this isn’t spur of the moment, or a mid-life crisis, or lust born out of loneliness.”  He picked up James’s hand from where it lay in his lap, and looked deeply into James’s eyes.  “This is about as real as it gets, and yes, we’ll have obstacles, and yes, there will be days when it will probably get damn ugly, but that’s life and love.”  Robbie turned to Lyn.  “Twenty-odd years with your mam taught me that.  And that love is stronger than all of it.”  
  
Robbie paused for a moment, looking between Lyn and Tim before he continued.  “Knowing you know, and that it’s okay with you, means the world to me, to us.  I don’t want to begin to think...”  
  
Lyn stopped him with a kiss on the cheek.  “I just want you to be happy; Mum would have wanted you to be happy.”  She hesitated.  “I have no idea how Mark’ll take the news.”  
  
“I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, love.  Like we’ll have to do many times with many people along the way, I expect.”

*****

 

“It’s barely ten minutes away and you’ll have to wait forever for a taxi.  Now just get in, the pair of you,” Lyn ordered.  
  
It was close to nine when Robbie and James said their goodbyes and climbed in to Lyn’s car.  Thom and Hannah were both asleep, the empty whiskey bottle had been thrown in the bin, and the newly opened one returned to the cabinet.  Tim had driven Robbie’s car into their driveway and promised to drop it around to the B&B before ten the next day.  
  
“No arguments.”  Lyn was adamant.  “It’ll give us another chance to say goodbye before you head home.”   
  
After Robbie acknowledged this, Tim added, “And to make sure you haven’t takenadvantage of James in his vulnerable state.”  
  
“Oh, give over, man,” Robbie snorted.  “I’m too drunk to take advantage of anything but me pillow."  James’s face was pressed against Robbie’s shoulder, and Robbie fervently hoped he was the only one who heard James’s mumbled reply.  
  
“Pity.  I’m not.”  
  
  
  
At the B&B, Robbie insisted Lyn stay in the car.  “It’s cold and getting late, love.  Get home where it’s warm and we’ll see you tomorrow.  James’ll see me right.”  
  
Lyn smiled, obviously biting back her first response.  “Good night, Dad,” she said with a giggle.  Robbie gave her an exasperated, though fond – and slightly embarrassed – smile in reply.  
  
The cold night air had a sobering effect, but as soon as they walked into the warmth of their room Robbie felt himself lagging again.  He peeled off his clothes and crawled under the duvet in boxers, socks, and t-shirt.   
  
  
  
James shook him gently.  “At risk of sounding like your mother, toilet and teeth, Robbie, c’mon.”  James drew back the covers and helped Robbie to the bathroom.  He stood and watched as Robbie sorted himself.  After he saw Robbie back into bed, he returned to the bathroom and got himself ready to sleep.  
  
James had barely pulled the covers over himself when Robbie rolled towards him, wrapping his arm around James’s waist and pulling him tightly against his body.  
  
“Thought you were too drunk to take advantage?” James said softly.  
  
“Not taking advantage,” Robbie murmured against James’s back.  “I like to cuddle in bed; waited a long time to do this, not wasting a night, drunk or not.”  
  
James twisted round so he was facing Robbie.  It wasn’t an easy task until Robbie realised he wasn’t trying to get away.  James lay as close to Robbie as possible and began to nuzzle at his throat, underneath his chin; Robbie’s head fell back lazily.  James slid a hand under Robbie’s vest, fingertips brushing up his spine and making Robbie shiver.  
  
James kissed him, slowly, cautiously, alert for any sign that Robbie wasn’t happy; when his kisses said otherwise James relaxed, breathing in the sharp mint of the toothpaste mingled with traces of whiskey.  It was an odd, though not entirely unpleasant, combination.  James’s cock started to rise to the occasion.  
  
James’s hand traced Robbie’s spine down to the waist of his boxers and he pushed his fingers underneath.  Robbie drew in a sharp breath as James’s fingers caressed his arse and slipped over his hip.  James wriggled his own hips back to make room to bring his hand to the front, where he held Robbie’s limp cock within a loose circle of thumb and fingers.  
  
Robbie broke the kiss gently and looked at James sadly.  “S'no use lad – all the will in the world isn't going to make anything happen.  I’ve had too much to drink, I know me limits.”  
  
“Let me try?” James began to stroke him slowly.  
  
Robbie smiled fondly but made no attempt to stop him.  “James, pet, trust me, it's not going to happen.”  
  
With a disappointed sigh, James moved his hand back to Robbie’s arse and started kissing him again.  Robbie’s hand slid down to James’s arse, over his boxers.  James was grateful he’d reconsidered coming to bed naked; this was safe and warm, solid and real.  His blossoming erection faded and he felt himself starting to drift away.  
  
The next thing James was aware of was Robbie fighting to get out of his embrace.  Dazed and half-awake, he sat up and watched Robbie stumble to the bathroom.  He was fully awake when he heard Robbie vomit.  James partly fell out of the bed, his feet tangled in the sheet, and groped in the dark for the robes.  He eventually thought to turn on a lamp, and opened the bathroom door.  Sliding to the floor next to him, James wrapped the robe around Robbie as best he could before struggling into the other.  He sat and held Robbie’s forehead through each wave, leaving him only once to wet a washcloth to wipe down his face.   
  
As Robbie’s shivering subsided, James helped him to sit on the toilet and began to clean him up, cleaning his face, neck and hands, and encouraging him to rinse out his mouth with water.  James crouched by Robbie’s side, holding his hands and watching his face.  
  
“I’m sorry, Ja–” Robbie began self-consciously.  
  
“Don’t!”  James winced at the harshness in his voice, and continued more gently, “Never apologise for being sick.”  
  
“But I shouldn’t have drunk...”  
  
“And I should have tried to stop you or slow you down and I didn’t.”  He wiped over Robbie’s flushed face with gentle, soothing strokes.  “Let’s get you back to bed; sleep’s what you need now.  Can’t have Lyn seeing you look like death in the morning.”  
  
When Robbie was sitting on the side of the bed, James made him wait while he went back to the bathroom, returning with water and paracetamol.  “Here, swallow these and drink the entire glass – in small sips.”  James sat down next to him.  
  
  
  
While Robbie frowned at James hovering over him, he found comfort in being cared for.  Although James had always fussed whenever Robbie was sick or injured, he’d never demonstrated this level of hands-on care.  Robbie had missed having someone tend to him so intimately.  Exhausted and oddly happy, he laid his head against James’s shoulder.  James’s arm snaked around his waist and held him close and he felt James’s cheek rest against the top of his head.  They sat that way for several long minutes until Robbie yawned.   
  
  
  
“Sleep, love,” whispered James, and helped him under the covers, ensuring he was propped up on enough pillows to stop the room spinning.  James watched and waited until he was confident Robbie was falling asleep.  He took his own ‘cure’ of paracetamol and water and curled up behind Robbie.

*****

 

James woke first, still wrapped around Robbie.  He turned his head and pressed his ear to Robbie’s back so he could listen to his steady breathing.  The rest of the night had been uneventful, and James had slept well considering; he hoped Robbie would pull up all right.  James stretched carefully so as not to disturb Robbie and got up, checking the time.  He was surprised to find it was just after seven.  James went into the bathroom, planning to shower, dress and read until Robbie got up.  They could judge their day from there.  
  
Robbie was awake when James emerged, hair damp, shirt unbuttoned.  Robbie patted the edge of the bed, shuffling back to make room for James.  Slipping off his shirt, James laid on top of the covers next to Robbie, propping himself up on his elbow.   
  
“How’re you this morning?”  James trailed his fingers down Robbie’s cheek, smiling.  
  
“Bloody good, thanks to you.”  Robbie closed his eyes as James lowered his head and kissed him.  He took hold of James’s waistband and, rolling onto his back, pulled James on top of him.   
  
James chuckled throatily, “Would you like a repeat of yesterday?  I’d be happy to oblige; we have time.”  He raised his eyebrows when Robbie blushed and looked flustered.  
  
“I’m not sure I could look Lyn in the eye this mornin’ if we did,” he murmured, blushing more.  “Not that I’m not tempted, mind.  It’s...  now she knows...”  
  
James kissed him once more and sat up.  “In that case, you’d best get packed up and ready for breakfast before I try to convince you otherwise.”  He pointedly drew Robbie’s attention to the growing bulge in his trousers.  James smiled wickedly.  “See what you do to me?”  
  
*  
  
Coming out of the bathroom, Robbie found James staring out the window, deep in thought.  “What are you over-thinking this time?”  
  
James huffed a laugh and smiled at Robbie.  It was a smile that spoke of hopes and dreams, of happiness and a touch of disbelief.  “It’s not a dream, is it, yesterday, today?  I’m not waking up from this, am I?  This is it.  This is us.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“What happens next?”  
  
“What do you want to happen next?”   
  
James took a deep breath, blowing it out through puffed cheeks.  He looked at Robbie, his confusion plain to see.  “I don’t know.  I’ve never been here before,” he stammered.  “It’s... a foreign country, an unknown shore, a complete and utter mystery.”  
  
Wrapping one arm around his waist, Robbie pulled James into his embrace.  Drawing James’s face down to rest against his neck, Robbie whispered, “I don’t think any two journeys through love are the same; let’s draw the map together, pet.”

 

*****

 

Lyn arrived as they were heading into the dining room, rushing in through the main doors.  
  
“Everything all right, love, you look flustered?” Robbie caught her by the arm.  
  
“Yeah, no.”  She was frowning and exhaled an exasperated sigh.  “Tim’s eldest brother’s partner’s gone into labour two weeks early.”  Lyn got faster as she explained.  “We promised to look after Tim’s niece at home and take her into the hospital after.  We’ve been running around mad all morning, getting things sorted and completely forgot about your car ‘til we went outside.  Anyway it’s just up the street, and I’m sorry we can’t say goodbye properly, but Thom’s howling in the car and Tim’s chomping at the bit.”  She stretched up and quickly kissed both of them.  “It was lovely to see you and we really are very happy for both of you – and James, look after him or I will come down to Oxford and sort you out.  Love you both.”  She kissed them again.  “Gotta run.  Call me tomorrow?  Today’s a lost cause.”  
  
And she was out the door and gone before either Robbie or James could get another word out.  
  
“Bloody hell.”  Robbie stared at the closed door.  “That did just happen, didn’t it?  
  
“Yep.  Should I be scared that she’ll come after me if I let you come to harm?”  James looked away from the door to Robbie.  
  
“Scared?”  Robbie grinned at James.  “Nah.  You should be bloody terrified.”

 

*****

 

The return journey to Oxford was uneventful, and the knowledge that they had a noon start the next day, and therefore could sleep in the next morning, was comforting.   
  
Robbie received two texts from Lyn.  The first was an apology for rushing like a madwoman, the second reinforcing her support and love for them.   
  
After stopping by James’s for work clothes and some other items he wanted, they returned to Robbie’s.  While Robbie put their clothes in the washing machine – blushing as he shoved their pyjamas in – James unpacked the bags he collected.   
  
“Did you bring the entire contents of your kitchen?”  Robbie watched him move between bench, fridge and pantry.  
  
“Only the stuff we could use.  I know what your fridge and pantry are like.  _That_ will change.”   
  
“Oh, will it now?”  
  
“If I’m to look after you, as Lyn seems to expect, then yes.”  James put the last items away and turned to face Robbie.  “I know you’re cooking healthier than you were before, which is a start, but now there’s no reason for me not to take a more – dominant – role in the kitchen and in your health and well-being.  I’m more than your bagman now.  I have other... responsibilities.”  
  
Robbie gazed affectionately at James, standing ramrod-straight like a soldier at attention.  “That you do.  Come and sit on the couch with me.”  He took James’s hand and led him out of the kitchen.  
  
*  
  
There was no preamble, no hesitation.  As soon as they sat down, hands reached out and their lips found each other.  It was soft and slow and sweet, and a part of James wanted to stay here forever.  The other part wanted heat, to have Robbie panting and needy.  He wanted both peace and passion.  
  
  
  
They lost all track of time but having nowhere else to be they didn’t care.  Robbie found comfort in James’s calmness.  The small voice that had been niggling at him that he wouldn’t be able to keep up, that James, being young, would want constant fire like the previous morning, was silenced.  James’s pleasure in this slow, unhurried lovemaking was clear, from the shivers of delight to the myriad of tiny noises he made.   
  
Robbie drew away first, staring into James’s eyes as they fluttered open.  
  
“That was lovely, pet.”  Robbie stroked James’s cheek with the back of his hand.  “We’ll have to do that lots more, what d’you think?”  
  
James nodded, smiling gently.  “Definitely.  I’m sure Lyn would approve of that.”  
  
“God, she and Tim were a surprise.”  Robbie lay back against the couch.  “Shouldn’t have been though – I’d forgotten about Craig, probably because there was no fuss over him and Paul – the whole family accepted it as the most natural thing in the world and the world kept turning.”  
  
“Who is Craig, exactly?”  
  
“Tim’s younger brother.”  Robbie looked at James, puzzled.  “Didn’t you know?”  
  
James shook his head, a laugh breathed out through his smile, “Clearly his choice of partner was deemed un-newsworthy.”  He grew serious.  “Do you think we’ll be as lucky?”  
  
“Honestly, I don’t think I care.  You’re here, this is real, and this is all that matters as far as I’m concerned right now.”  Robbie sighed as his stomach rumbled.  “Let’s check out what you brought in those bags of yours, get you looking after me like Lyn wants, eh?  I need a cuppa first, you want one?”  
  
James rested his head against the couch, “Yeah, I’ll help you.”

 

*****

 

“Did Val know... about you... before?”  James was curled up on the couch, his head in Robbie’s lap.  James had made lemon and chicken fettuccine, and they’d finished a bottle of chardonnay; it wasn’t Robbie’s first choice of wine, but he trusted James’s judgment and hadn’t been disappointed.  Neither had wanted to watch anything, so James had put some Sibelius on and they’d chosen to sit with only one small lamp on.  
  
Robbie stroked the side of James’s face.  “I know she suspected, don’t think she ever truly knew.  She once made a remark about how, if Morse was younger and prettier, she’d be worried I might not come home one night.  It was just the once, and nothing else was ever said, but I always made sure I made the effort to get home after that.”  
  
“Did it bother you?  Keeping the truth from her?  Having secrets?”  James sat up, turning and nestling close so he could see Robbie’s face.  
  
“Not that one.  Was better she didn’t know.  What good would it have done?  I never strayed, not once – never wanted to.  I had the best.”  He cradled James’s face, sighing softly and smiling.  “Never thought that lightning bolt would strike twice.”  
  
James sat quietly stunned at Robbie’s words, and then gave him a smile that could have lit the entire flat.  A single tear rolled down his cheek.  
  
Robbie wiped away the droplet with his finger, tracing its path down James’s face.  He curled his fingers around James’s chin and brushed his lower lip with his thumb.  James moved into the kiss, his eyes closing as Robbie drew nearer.  
  
“Come to bed?”  Robbie whispered against his lips.  James nodded and let himself be led, his skin tingling in anticipation.  
  
With only the light from the hallway breaking the darkness of the room, Robbie knelt up on the bed and James followed, kneeling opposite him.  Robbie grasped the bottom of James’s jumper and pulled it, and his t-shirt, off in one movement.  James’s nipples hardened as the air cooled his skin and he sucked in a breath as Robbie brushed his hands over the top and down his sides, meeting up on James’s belt buckle.  James caught up and he swiftly removed Robbie’s shirt, vest, and belt.   
  
Robbie pulled James into a kiss, his hands stroking his back, swimming in the sensation of skin against skin as they pressed their bodies together.  “Lie down, pet?  Please.”  Robbie’s throat was dry, his voice a whisper.  
  
  
  
James lay back against the pillows, his arms loosely by his side, with palms face up in submission.  Robbie let his eyes wander; he’d seen James shirtless before, but never laid bare solely for him like this, exposed and open to whatever Robbie was offering.  That James found this arousing was beyond doubt; his cock straining against the fly of his jeans was ample evidence of that.  Robbie didn’t understand what James saw in him physically, nor was he going to try and dissect it – it was what it was.  
  
Robbie lay beside James, fingers tracing lean muscle and veins.  He kissed along James’s collar bone, his own body rolling under James’s caresses as nimble fingers stroked his nipples and sought out his most sensitive areas.  Robbie smiled to himself, realising James was probably storing away every little bit of information.   
  
Robbie’s hand rubbed over James’s trapped erection, James’s hips jerking at the touch.  When James’s hands wandered lower Robbie took hold of his wrist, pinning it down by his side.  He hushed James’s protests, gently lifted James’s gaze to his own and kissed him slowly and deeply.  “There’s something I want to do for you – I’ve been thinking about this for some time.”  Robbie’s lips brushed against James’s.  “It’s been a while but I think I can remember how it works.”  Robbie started to kiss his way down James’s neck and onto his chest.  Although his fingers weren’t as nimble, Robbie easily undid James’s jeans.  He sat up and tugged at them impatiently; James obligingly raised his hips and Robbie pulled his jeans and trunks off, dropping them on the floor; his own quickly followed.  Robbie sat back on his heels and took in the glory of James spread naked before him; his cock – his beautiful cock – lay proudly against his belly, and his eyes were fixed on Robbie’s face.  
  
Robbie dragged his fingers from James’s ankle up and along the inside of his calf and thigh.  They brushed the side of his cock, teased his nipples and slipped behind his neck.  Robbie bent forward and kissed him once on the lips before his kisses moved lower, interspersed with small nips and sweeping whirls around his nipples.  James’s noises became needier and Robbie took James’s rock-hard cock in his fist; he flicked his thumb over the sensitive tip on the up stroke, and swept over his balls on the down stroke.  Robbie shuffled down the bed, his own cock painfully hard and his own need driving him on.  Robbie kissed the head of James’s cock and licked away the first traces of pre-come.  James cried out and one hand found Robbie’s hair while the other grasped at the fist around his cock.  
  
“Are you sh-sh-sh.. _shit_... sh-sh-sh-sh-sure?”  
  
In answer, Robbie swallowed him down, sucking hard and dragging his tongue roughly along the underside as he drew back up to the tip.  James groaned and threw his head back on the pillow with an exhaled, “oh fuck, you are...”  Robbie teased James’s slit with his tongue, licking and probing, listening to and remembering the noises he made.  He cupped James’s balls, heavy and full in his palm, and massaged them gently; squeeze, relax, roll.  With his mouth he urged James on, thrust down and withdrew, down and withdrew, his tongue working all the time, in, over, around the tip; James was leaking pre-come and Robbie swallowed down the salty fluid.   
  
James’s breathing became more ragged, and his thighs spread widely apart in surrender, making it oh so easy for Robbie to slip a spit-wet finger down to push at his entrance.  Robbie waited for James to protest, to pull away or to tighten up.  Instead, James relaxed at his touch.  Robbie knew it would take little effort to push his way inside, one finger then two, three, to open him up and...  Robbie marvelled at James’s complete trust in him, but it was too soon, and James was in no state of mind to give consent to anything further; Robbie would never take advantage of James, never give James cause to doubt his faith in him.  With his mouth he lavished attention on James’s cock and balls, and his finger slid up to massage James’s perineum.  James tried to talk through his panting.  
  
  
  
“Robbie... st-st-stop... no... don’t... stop... f-f-f-f-f-fuck... coming... I’m...”  James tugged futilely at Robbie’s head and shoulders.  The awareness that Robbie had no intention of stopping tipped James over the edge.  He flung his head back against the pillows, thrusting his cock deeper into the wet warmth of Robbie’s mouth.  
  
  
  
James came hard, pulsing against Robbie’s tongue as Robbie used it to hold him fast to the roof of his mouth.  Robbie swallowed down the salty, bitter liquid.  As James relaxed his hold on Robbie’s shoulder, Robbie let his lips glide up to James’s tip.  Robbie lovingly and tenderly lapped at the head of James’s cock, sweeping away the last few drops as they oozed out.  James shuddered and moaned softly under his attention, his stomach sucking in deeply with each gasped breath.  
  
At the edge himself, Robbie dropped onto his back and grasped his cock, spilling over his hand and stomach with a single stroke.  As he lay there, listening to their ragged breathing, Robbie groped at the floor with one hand.  His fingers closed over some fabric – he didn’t care what it was – and he cleaned himself as best he could.  Gooseflesh rose as the sweat on their bodies cooled, and Robbie felt for the edge of the duvet, tugging it up to cover them.  He pulled it higher as he kissed his way back up James’s shivering body.  Before sleep completely claimed him, Robbie looked on James as he slept, and he fell a little deeper.

 

*****

 

Robbie woke, lying on his side, to find James watching him, one hand lightly pressed against his chest, over his heart.  A ghost of a smile appeared as James registered he was awake.  
  
“What’re you thinking about now, clever clogs?”  Robbie was gentle.  
  
James sucked in his bottom lip and his brow creased in concentration.  He took a deep breath before he spoke.  “That I’m thankful I never gave up hope, never took the... the coward’s option and ran away from my dreams and desires because I thought they were impossible.  That I’m grateful I decided several years ago that, if all I could ever have was your friendship and respect, then that was enough if it meant I could stay by your side.  That I still keep expecting to wake up and discover that this is merely the most perfect and ultimately heartbreaking dream I could have.”  
  
Robbie reached up to James, gliding his hand carefully around the back of his neck and drawing him down into a kiss.  “Set your mind at rest, pet, it’s not a dream,” Robbie murmured against his lips.  “It’s very, very real.  I’m also thankful you didn’t run; you hinted at it a few times – was that why?”  
  
“Mmmm hmmm.”  James briefly deepened the kiss.  “Not running anywhere now, ever.”  
  
Robbie smiled broadly, gently breaking the kiss.  “And now that I’ve finally got you, I won’t be letting go easily.” 

 


	6. New Year, New Beginnings

It had been a whirlwind week since they’d returned from Manchester.  The usual holiday season madness had ensued and they’d been working two cases.  It left them with barely enough time and energy to fall into bed together, with little more than a few slow kisses before exhaustion took over.   
  
In the blink of an eye New Year’s Eve had arrived, and with it Laura’s party.  They both felt they owed it to Laura to attend as a ‘thank you’ – if it hadn’t been for the restaurant bungle they might not be where they were right now.  They were both pretty sure they would have got there eventually but they had no idea how much longer they would have danced around each other.  
  
James arrived at Robbie’s that morning with his suit bag.  Robbie ribbed him about it as he placed it in the wardrobe.  
  
“I don’t think you’ll get extra points with Laura for wearing a suit; she sees you in one of those most days – unless, of course, it’s your birthday suit and you’re just trying to trick me.”  
  
James turned a withering glance onto Robbie.  “I’ll have you know I took time and care choosing this outfit, _and_ took the time to iron it properly.  I’d rather not have to re-iron this evening.”  
  
Robbie raised a hand in surrender and reached for James as he came towards him.  
  
James slipped comfortably into his embrace and smiled suggestively.  “Of course, after the party, I’d like you to feel free to crease and rumple it, and me, as much as you want.”  
  
James’s smile, and the image his words thrust into Robbie’s mind, triggered the slow heat of arousal in Robbie; he glanced at his watch.  “We’ve got a bit of time before we have to be in,” he murmured, and pulled James to him and kissed him.  It was wet and more than a little bit dirty and James’s moan came from the depths.  He didn’t protest as Robbie loosened off his tie and undid the top two buttons.  They’d both been longing for something all week, and Robbie was a little rocked when he realised he had every intention of taking it further if James wanted it.  He’d never been a ‘sex before work’ person, even with Val, and only occasionally on lazy Sunday mornings.  _Never too old to try something different._  
  
Robbie ran his fingers over the hollow at the base of James’s throat.  His skin was almost hot to the touch and Robbie looked at the warm, red flush that was creeping down over James’s chest.  “What’s this then?” he whispered huskily, and pressed his lips to the hollow, the heat tingling against his lips.  
  
James took hold of one of Robbie’s hands.  “It’s directly connected to this,” he panted, and pressed Robbie’s palm over the growing bulge in his trousers.  
  
Robbie straightened up, his eyes wide with wonder.  “One kiss does that to you?”   
  
James nodded, and rasped, “It’s been a long week; I’ve been going on memory.”   
  
Robbie slowly rubbed his hand over James’s groin, pressing his fingers around the shape of James’s rapidly filling cock.  He nuzzled into James’s neck and James moaned loudly, clutching onto Robbie’s shirt.  Robbie stroked James harder through the fabric.  “I can take care of that for you.  Here.  Now.  If you want.”  
  
“Want.  Yes.  Here.  _Now?_   Oh, God, please.”  James sank back against the wall as his knees buckled slightly.  
  
Two pairs of hands fumbled with James’s belt, hook and zip until Robbie gently batted James’s hands away.  James reattached himself to Robbie’s mouth and grasped at his belt as he made the effort to stay on his feet.  Trousers opened, Robbie plunged his hands between the soft cotton trunks and firm, round, smooth flesh of James’s arse.  He slipped the layers over James’s hips and down his thighs, freeing his throbbing cock.  Driven by lust, Robbie kissed James hard once more, their tongues tangling.  Leaving him panting, Robbie anchored his hands on James’s bare hips and sank carefully to his knees, taking James in his mouth on the way down.  It was fast and dirty, noisy and wet, and James’s need and longing were so great that he spilled over the back of Robbie’s tongue within a few short minutes, helped along by Robbie’s finger teasing his opening.  Again Robbie was astonished at how easily James relaxed into his touch, and the temptation to breach that opening, to thrust up into James, pushed Robbie toward his own climax.  Still coaxing James through the last pulses of his orgasm with his mouth, Robbie fumbled with his own belt and trousers, grasped his aching cock in a tight fist, and pumped frantically, spilling over his hand in seconds, his thighs shaking uncontrollably.   
  
Robbie felt James slip out of his mouth, and registered him dropping to the floor beside him just as his own thighs could support him no more and he collapsed, his legs folded beneath him.  He was aware of James’s arm around his shoulder, holding him steady, and the softness of his mouth against his neck.  A hand was gently wiping him clean.  Robbie slowly opened his eyes, and watched James’s dexterous fingers as they used his ‘standard police issue’ handkerchief to clear away the traces of semen.   
  
James trailed a finger over a mark on Robbie’s thigh.  “You may want to change your trousers; that stain’s a bit of a giveaway.   
  
Robbie laughed softly.  “You’re going to have to help me; I’m not sure my legs’ll get me to the bedroom.”  
  
A closer inspection revealed it would be a good idea if Robbie changed completely; a check of James’s clothes showed that Robbie had been very thorough, not missing a drop.  They both freshened up, washing hands, faces and groins, and applying an extra burst of Robbie’s antiperspirant and aftershave to cover up any lingering traces of sex.  That they would both smell the same didn’t bother them – wouldn’t be the first time and Innocent knew they often kipped at each other’s place during a heavy caseload.  
  
They barely made it to work on time, as James decided he needed to be kissed some more in order to get through the day without doing something rash, and Robbie was more than happy to oblige.

 

*****

 

It was a hard but fruitful day, with one case cracked and their suspect in custody, and new evidence found in the second for which they were waiting on the forensic report.  For the first time this week they both felt they could relax, both mentally and physically, this morning’s ‘exertions’ having taken the edge off their need for each other.   
  
They arrived back at Robbie’s earlier than they’d expected to, giving them time to sit and relax with a beer before making the effort to get ready.  Though he wasn’t as desperate for Robbie as he had been at the beginning of the day, having waited this long for permission to touch and explore James wasn’t wasting any opportunity.  With one hand lightly stroking Robbie’s thigh, making him shiver, James nuzzled at Robbie’s neck in between mouthfuls of beer.  
  
Dragging his lips up to the sensitive skin behind Robbie’s ear, James whispered, “Your shower’s big enough for two – shall we?”  His continued nibbling at Robbie’s ear made it impossible for Robbie to answer immediately in any coherent manner.  
  
Stopping James’s teasing by turning and kissing him, Robbie replied hoarsely, “We do _have_ to make it to Laura’s party, you know.  I get into the shower with you, well... odds are we won’t get there, and I’m not answering _those_ questions.”  
  
James sat back and studied Robbie, taking in his wide, dark eyes, complexion ruddier than usual, and, yes, his breathing was definitely more rapid.  A small, decidedly wicked smile crossed his face.  “Just how much _do_ you want me, Detective Inspector Lewis?” James growled.  
  
Robbie’s hand cradled the back of James’s head and he pulled him closer, placing a small chaste kiss on his forehead.  Resting his forehead against James’s he murmured, “Behave, stay fairly sober, and you’ll find out after the bells.  I’m going for me shower – and I’m locking the door.”  He kissed James’s exaggerated pout as he stood up, and ruffled his hair before he walked away.  James dropped back against the couch, thoughtful and a little frustrated.

 

*****

 

As they pulled up at Laura’s, Robbie was still wondering how they actually made it out of the door.  Robbie was wearing the trousers and shirt James had given him for his birthday, primarily because James had asked him to and he’d not had an opportunity to wear them before.  The dark, rich fabrics, and sleek fitted style weren’t like anything he’d ever purchased for himself.  The trousers, though very comfortable, left little to the imagination – one ill-advised word or gesture from James and the whole world would immediately know how he felt about his Sergeant.  If Lyn had seen him she would have probably marched him back to the bedroom to ‘put on something more appropriate’, sounding every bit like her mother.   
  
Had Lyn seen her dad standing next to James, she may well have passed out.  James outfit of a fitted purple-almost-black silk shirt and very slim fitting black jeans left nothing to the imagination.   
  
When James first walked out of the bedroom Robbie nearly had kittens.  
  
“ ** _Christ, James!_**   How the hell am I supposed to maintain any dignity with you walking around like that!”  
  
James had beamed at him.  “D’you like it?”  
  
“Bloody hell – _like it?_ ”  He was in front of James with two strides, one hand stroking the silk over his chest, coming to rest on his hip, the other cupping his cheek.  “I want to take it off you, very slowly.”  
  
“You can do what you like after the party; I told you that this morning,” James purred as he rested his forehead against Robbie’s.  
  
“Aye.  Just you wait until after the bells, pet.  I’ll look after you then, I promise.”  
  
They stood, immobile for several long minutes, both working hard to control their breathing and hands.  
  
“We’d best...” Robbie cleared his throat roughly.  “We’d best be off or Laura’ll likely send Peterson to chase us up.”  
  
James groaned.

 

*****

 

“James, please give me your coat.”  Laura held out her hand again.  “How do I know you’re not going to do a runner on me again?”  
  
“Dr Hobson...”  
  
“Laura.”  
  
James sighed.  “Laura.  I’ll be in and out all night for a smoke, which means I’ll be in and out of my coat – and the cupboard.  Honestly, it’s less of a nuisance if I keep it on.”  He tried not to sound peeved, however, as it was the third time she’d asked him he was beginning to get a little irritated.  It was only nine o’clock for God’s sake – how much could she have had to drink?   
  
“James, James, James.”  She fondled the lapel of his coat and smiled lazily at him.  _Clearly a reasonable amount,_ thought James.  “What are you hiding under that coat that you don’t want us to see?”  She swayed slightly towards him.  “James, the dishy Sergeant Hathaway – you don’t mind if I call you dishy, do you?  Of course you don’t, handsome lad like you, don’t understand why you haven’t been...”   
  
“Laura, please excuse me, I _really_ need a cigarette.”  He slipped from her hands and out the French doors into the cold air.  He raised his collar; he was certain Oxford winters were getting colder.  _Bloody global warming._  
  
“Everything all right?  Looks like Laura had you cornered good and proper.”  Robbie stood just inside the door, having relinquished his own coat to numerous wolf whistles and good-natured cat-calls.  
  
James leant back against the wall, the cigarette warding off some of the chill.  “She wants my coat.  Pointless taking it off if I need to put it on again to come out for a smoke.  And since I’m not drinking, I’ll possibly smoke more.”  
  
“I’d rather you had a couple of drinks and less ciggies.”  Robbie’s voice was quiet, his eyes downcast.  
  
“You said don’t drink.”  James was getting defensive.  
  
“I said, ‘stay fairly sober’.  There is a difference.”  
  
James looked at his cigarette and back to Robbie.  “You’ve never said anything before.”  
  
“Never been my place to, you’re a grown lad, capable of making your own decisions and all.”  
  
“And now?  
  
“Still not my place, but I’d hope you’d think of _our_ health.”  
  
“And you’re bringing this up now?”  James was perplexed.   
  
“James.”  Robbie sighed and looked at him.  “You’ve always known how I feel about smoking: yes or no?”  
  
“Yes,” James eventually mumbled.  
  
“I could ask you to stop, but I won’t.  I _can_ ask you to think about us.  **_But_**...”  He raised a finger to stop James interrupting.  “Your decision won’t change what’s happened.”  Robbie’s voice dropped to a murmur.  “Were it that make-or-break an issue we wouldn’t be where we are – hell, you wouldn’t be my bagman.  And I _know_ you can cut back when you want; you barely smoked at all over Christmas – you never went outside at Lyn’s, you only went out a few times at the B &B.  You _can_ go without if you need to.  I suppose what I’m asking is, for tonight, don’t make smoking your excuse for staying outside all night.  It won’t hurt you to come inside and relax for a bit, be sociable, talk to someone other than me.  And as for what’s to come, well, that’s up to you.  But if we’re going to consider living together at some point in the future, then your smoking’s something we should discuss.”  
  
Without waiting for James’s response, Robbie headed back into the warmth.  
  
  
  
James stared after him.  _Living together?  He said living together_.  
  
James crushed out his cigarette, stuffing the stub inside the packet.  He went inside looking for Robbie, peeling off his coat as he went.  The cat calls started immediately.  
  
“Sarge , nice...  jeans.”  _Julie.  At least she has the grace to blush.  
  
_ “Oh, knew you were hiding something tasty – erm, tasteful – under that.”  _Laura._ James rolled his eyes.  _Who else?_  
  
“Hathaway, do you ever eat?  You look like you’ll snap in those jeans.”   _Innocent.  Wonder if Robbie’ll get a lecture about meal breaks?_  
  
“Singing a soprano solo for us tonight, James?  _Peterson.  One more word out of him and I swear..._  
  
“James, where’d you get that shirt?  My brother’s been trying to replace his favourite one and it’s _that_ exact colour.”   
  
“God bless you, Gurdip.  Walk with me while I get a drink and look for the Inspector and I’ll tell you.”  
  
Robbie was in the front room talking to someone James didn’t recognise.  “Ro– sir.”   
  
Lewis turned, the faintest of smiles on his lips.  “Nice to see you’ve decided to be social for a change, James.”  Robbie held out a hand for one of the beers James was carrying.  “Thanks, was just thinking of heading for one of those.”  
  
Robbie introduced him to Ben, who turned out to be Laura’s favourite intern and, James decided, quite possibly the second most interesting person at the party; he didn’t want to talk about work, his passion was Egyptology – and he smoked.   
  
  
  
Robbie wasn’t surprised when he saw the two of them, well rugged up, heading out to the garden swing a short time later.  He shook his head and went off to find Laura.  At least James wasn’t brooding by himself, and that was all he’d asked of him.

 

*****

 

Somehow, Robbie made it to a quarter to midnight without being too bored or annoyed.  James had come in several times to check on him – _Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t punched Peterson_ – so, while he missed James at his side, he wasn’t feeling neglected.  However, given the rush of blood to his groin he experienced every time he saw James in those bloody jeans, he was grateful James _hadn’t_ been at his side all night.  He had little doubt they would have been outed by ten if that had been the case.  
  
A hand on his elbow made him jump.  
  
“Robbie, it’s nearly midnight, where’s James?”  Laura handed him a glass of champagne.  “Has he bunked off and left you to face the New Year on your own?”  
  
“He’s outside; he’s been bonding with your intern, Ben.”  
  
“Ah, ‘smokers united’ is it?”  
  
“Something like that.  Oh, I see Peterson’s been a good lad and rounded up the strays.”  He pointed to the garden where James and Ben were heading in, trailed by Peterson.  
  
“Yes he has.”  Robbie felt the ice in Laura’s voice.  “And his name’s Alan, _Robert_.”  Laura marched off, leaving Robbie gaping.   
  
“That looked – interesting – _sir_.”  James smirked.  “How did you offend the good doctor this time?”  
  
“No bloody idea.”  He looked at James and Ben.  “You going to get yourselves a drink, then?  Nearly midnight.”  
  
  
  
Everyone was squeezed into Laura’s living room to welcome in the New Year, herded in by Laura and Peterson.  James and Ben found drinks, and Ben rejoined his hospital mates.  James backed himself into a corner, pulling Robbie with him, and Robbie let himself lean back slightly against James; were anyone to comment he could simply point to the overcrowded state of the room.  
  
“You should have taken that coat off before we came in here, you’re roasting, man.”  Robbie tried to turn to see James’s face but they were too tightly packed.   
  
James dipped his head to bring his mouth as close to Robbie’s ear as possible and whispered, “It’s not the coat.”  
  
“What d’you mean it’s not the... _oh._ ”  James had pushed his hips forward slightly and Robbie could feel the unmistakeable line of a hard cock.  Robbie tipped his head back slightly and murmured, “What say you and me disappear as fast as we can after the bells, like _immediately_.”  
  
“I can’t think of a better plan myself.”  Robbie didn’t have to see James’s face to know he was grinning broadly.  
  
On the stroke of twelve, under the cover of blowers and poppers, cheers and merriment, James grabbed Robbie’s wrist and carved a line towards the door.  Robbie didn’t bother putting his coat on before they headed out the door, and they all but ran for James’s car.  
  
“There’ll be hell to pay for that you know.”  Robbie tried to be serious but James’s grin was infectious.  
  
“We’ll just have to come up with a plausible story.”  
  
“A lie.”  
  
“You can call it that if you must; I was going to suggest I had a fever and you felt it best I leave in case I was contagious.  You came with me to ensure I reached home safely.”  He glanced at Robbie.  “I’m sure there will be others there who can confirm I looked flushed towards the end of the night.”  
  
Robbie shook his head in fond exasperation.  If it got them out of trouble with Laura, he’d go with it.  He set his mind toward what would happen when they got home, closing his eyes to fully appreciate the low heat.  
  
  
  
Despite James’s urgent desire to get Robbie home to find out what he had planned, he followed the traffic code to the letter.  Even the members of the Oxfordshire constabulary weren’t immune from being pulled over and James wasn’t jeopardising the rest of their evening.  He twitched at the first red light, muttering at it to change.  
  
Robbie slipped his hand over James’s thigh, giving it a light squeeze.  “Take a breath, James, we don’t have work tomorrow, we’ve plenty of time.  I’m not going anywhere else.”  
  
“I know, it’s...” James grunted.  “My jeans are too bloody tight, it’s getting painful.”  
  
Robbie huffed a laugh.  “I’m sorry, pet.”  He grinned at James’s peeved expression.  “I’ll fix that when we get inside.  Promise.”  
  
The interior of the car felt a lot warmer.

 

*****

 

In a single fluid movement, James closed and locked the door behind him and pinned Robbie to the wall beside it.  He kissed Robbie deeply, impatiently pushing his tongue past lips and teeth, wrestling with Robbie’s tongue – two powerful muscles fighting for dominance.  James’s hands found the buttons of Robbie’s shirt and, meeting no resistance, he swiftly unbuttoned it, pushing it off Robbie’s shoulders, along with his coat.  
  
Robbie hadn’t been idle or overwhelmed.  Quick hands had unfastened James’s coat and, keeping his promise, the button and fly of his jeans.  Fingers moved under James’s shirt, encircling his waist.   
  
“I’ve done what you asked of me,” James rumbled softly against Robbie’s neck.  “Now will you show me how much you want me?”  
  
“All in good time, pet, all in good time.”  Robbie caressed James’s back in slow, soothing arcs.  “We’ve got the rest of the night.”  
  
*  
  
Coats, shirts and shoes lay discarded by the door, keys tossed into a corner.  Trousers, jeans, boxers and trunks were bundled together just inside the bedroom door.   
  
They had time and Robbie had managed to convince James there was more to be gained from adopting a slower pace.  James had the advantage, half-lying across Robbie as they lazily kissed and nibbled and teased each other.  Hands caressed all over as they took their time exploring, savouring the slow build up of arousal.  With one skilful move the advantage changed, with James now on his back.  Robbie’s hand ghosted over James’s thigh and across his hard cock as it lay flat against his belly.  The soft noises of pleasure rather than need told Robbie the moment had arrived.  
   
Reaching across, Robbie opened the drawer of the bedside table and removed a bottle of lube and a condom.  He smiled tenderly at James, opened the bottle and squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers.  Setting the bottle back on the table, he rubbed his hands together, warming the lube and slicking both hands.  He pushed himself up onto his knees, settled himself over James and wrapped a fist around James’s cock, moistening his length with long, strong strokes and sweeping his thumb over the head.  Robbie slipped the index finger of his other hand over James’s perineum and massaged slow circles around his entrance.  James opened his thighs up further at the touch and tilted his hips upwards.  He tipped his head back against the pillows with a soft sigh as Robbie pressed against his opening, which relaxed at Robbie’s touch.   
  
Watching James’s face the whole time, Robbie gently pushed the tip of his finger inside.  James’s lips parted with a soft exhale and Robbie cautiously moved his finger – a little further in, slowly out, and in a little deeper.  He repeated the movements over and over, pausing whenever James clenched around him.  Soft sighs and quiet moans encouraged Robbie to continue until his finger was fully sheathed; he crooked his finger, finding James’s prostate.  James’s hiss of pleasure and the sharp arch of his back momentarily startled Robbie; he smiled broadly, delighting in the response of his lover’s body.  James had clamped down hard around Robbie’s finger and the pressure eased off as his back lowered slowly to the bed; Robbie relaxed his own tightened grip on James’s throbbing cock.  
  
  
  
“You right, love?”  
  
“Uh hmmm.  More?” James mumbled as his eyes gradually opened, a soft slow smile washing across his face.  Removing his finger in one even movement, Robbie picked up the condom and moved so he was kneeling between James’s thighs.  James propped himself up on his elbows and watched as Robbie opened the condom and rolled it onto himself.  Robbie’s cock was thicker than James had first believed and he felt the first flickering of nervousness.   
  
  
  
Robbie saw the flash of uncertainty cross James’s face.  
  
“James?”   
  
James looked at him, swallowing hard.  Robbie was immediately aware that he’d made a number of assumptions about James’s history and experience and the cold finger of doubt touched him.  “You... You have done _this_ before?  I’m not rushing you?  We...  Tell me what you want.  Please, James.”  
  
James nodded.  “I have, it’s been a while.  It’s.  It’s the first time I’ve really, I mean _really_ looked at you and... Fuck, it’s thick,” he finally gasped.  
  
Robbie sighed his understanding, a slow, breathy, _Oh_.  
  
“We’ll go slowly, yeah?  If it’s uncomfortable, if I hurt you, tell me.  We'll go as slow as you need.  I want you, but I’ll not... not unless you want me to.  I’m pretty sure it’s been longer for me, but I never hurt Val – well, maybe a little the first time – and I do remember what to do.  Can I touch you now?"  
  
James shivered and frowned.  “You and Val, you did it _this_ way?”  
  
Robbie nodded, leaning in to kiss away the fear in James’s eyes.  “A few times, yeah, before the kids.”  Robbie’s small laugh seemed out of place.  “She’d been at her book club, came home all flustered and read out this passage.  I can’t remember the book, but I could see she was curious.  Then she said ‘you’re in Vice, you know about this stuff – can we try?’  I just about fell off the bloody chair; made me wonder what else she thought we got up to.  I tried to explain, but she wasn’t interested, just wanted me to...”  While he talked Robbie had lain partially across James, bringing their cocks together.  Holding both in a loose circle of fingers and lube-slicked palm, he’d stroked gently to keep them both hard.  
  
James cradled Robbie’s head in both hands, and kissed him nearly senseless.  “Touch me again,” James pleaded softly.  “I want you so much.”   
  
Gasping for air, Robbie gazed down at James, who was panting, his eyes glazed.  “Give me your pillow, pet, and the others.”  Through his fog, James understood what Robbie wanted to do, and raised his hips as Robbie knelt beside him and placed the pillows under him.  James slowly stroked his own cock, moaning softly when Robbie quickly sucked in the tip, tonguing the pre-come out of the slit.   
  
Satisfied James was in a comfortable position, Robbie raised James’s left leg, resting the calf against his shoulder, stretching James a little more as James continued to slowly fist his cock.  Robbie pushed his finger back inside James in one smooth glide, and out again, over and over, hitting James’s prostate with each stroke.   
  
“M-mmm – m-more, p-p-please, Robbie.”   
  
Robbie added his middle finger, pushing slowly, deeply into James, widening his entrance, stretching him apart carefully.  He added a third finger, and his thrusts became harder as he pushed in deeper, scissoring his fingers to work James open wide enough to accommodate his own painfully rock-hard girth.  James was jerking his hips, trying to force Robbie even further into him.  
  
“Robbie, please, soon, _now?_ ”  James was almost begging, panting hard, the sheen of sweat glistening in the dim glow of the passage light.  His eyes were open, pleading with Robbie.  “Show me how much you want me.”  Robbie’s gaze took in James’s throbbing cock and his balls, contracted close to his body; he was near the edge.  
  
"I think I’ve opened you up enough, but it might still hurt a little, okay? Just try to relax."  
  
  
  
James nodded, not really caring about the possibility of pain.  He was desperate for Robbie to fill him, to consummate this relationship, to claim him.  
  
"Please, Robbie.  I need you."  
  
  
  
Robbie knew he wouldn’t last much longer.  He’d been harder for longer than he had in many years and was in pain.  A good pain, a deep ache born of longing, but pain nonetheless.  
  
Blocking out the protest from James as he removed his fingers, Robbie slicked up the condom as best he could and pressed the head of his cock to James’s entrance.  Grasping James’s left thigh as an anchor, Robbie pushed in.  He meant to go slowly, a bit at a time, until he was certain James was relaxed enough, but James had other ideas.  As Robbie’s head entered him James thrust upwards, taking in most of Robbie’s length in one go.  Caught by surprise, Robbie over-balanced and was buried to the hilt before he knew what was happening.  They both cried out, brought right to the edge with one movement.  
  
“Jesus, James,” Robbie panted, trying to stay calm.  “Did I hurt you?  Are you okay?”  
  
James tipped his head up so Robbie could see his eyes.  “God, no!  Not hurt.  It’s...”  Before he rolled his head gently back onto the mattress he reached forward, brushed Robbie’s arm, and breathed out, “Fuck me... Please …"  
  
Robbie’s eyes washed over James’s body; he was glorious like this, stretched out before him, lean and taut, in complete faith and trust.  Robbie lightly trailed his fingers across James’s damp belly and down the length of his cock.  He felt the shiver ripple through his fingertips and his cock deep inside James.  
  
Robbie moved his hips until he was almost all of the way out, and just as slowly slid back in, watching James stroke himself, moaning softly.  As Robbie’s thrusts became harder and faster, so James’s fist matched his rhythm.  Each time he hit James’s prostate, the arching of James’s hips increased his own pleasure.  It didn’t take long and it took an eternity.  
  
  
  
Shuddering, James came hard over his fist and stomach, his orgasm making his body clamp down on Robbie’s cock buried inside him as his body arched off the pillows.  James cried out, speech failing him.  In that instant he knew that he would never have enough words to describe all he felt, from the desire and pleasure that surged through his body, to the depth of his need and love for Robbie.    
  
  
  
Rising with James, Robbie was propelled over the edge, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside James, intensifying their experience.  James’s leg over his shoulder prevented Robbie from collapsing onto James, but the shivering that was coursing through his body made it hard for him to hold on.  He’d never known anything this intense, physically or emotionally.  He wanted to envelop James, take him away from Oxford, away from the horrors of the job, to a place where it was just the two of them, where all he had to do was show James how much he was loved and wanted.  He leant into James’s thigh, leaving a trail of small, hot breathy kisses as he worked to bring his body back under control.  In that moment Robbie committed his life to James; it wasn’t hard, James already had his heart.  
  
When he was certain his shaking arms would hold him, Robbie pushed James’s leg off his shoulder and lowered himself on to James.  They lay together silently for a long time, trembling and taking control of their breathing.  Before he got too soft, Robbie pulled out of James, carefully holding the condom in place.   
  
Kissing James’s neck, Robbie whispered, “I’ll be right back.”  He hurried to the bathroom where he disposed of the condom, cleaned himself up, wet a washcloth in warm water, and grabbed a clean towel.  Returning to James, he tenderly cleaned him up, dropping both washcloth and towel on the floor before pulling the duvet up and around them both.   
  
James rolled his head to the side, his hand drunkenly seeking the back of Robbie’s neck.  Instead of pulling Robbie to him, James used Robbie as an anchor and rolled his body so he was half lying on him.  He kissed him slowly, deeply, almost devouring him.  It was a kiss Robbie felt through his entire body, and somehow he knew that James had never kissed anyone that way before.  He was James’s, and James was his.  
  
As James’s head dropped to Robbie’s shoulder, Robbie murmured, “My Mam used to say, ‘Start the year as you mean to continue.’  You happy with that, pet?”  
  
“Ecstatically so; I think your Mam was a wise woman,” James mumbled as he drifted off.  



	7. New Year, New Life

James blinked his eyes against the weak morning sun that crept through the crack in the curtains.  He was slightly curled on his side, facing Robbie who lay on his stomach, one arm draped possessively over James’s hip.  James could feel where Robbie had been, on him and inside him.  He shivered lightly at the memory and pulled the duvet a little higher, though he really wanted to throw it off, sit up and watch Robbie sleeping naked.  Robbie was so much younger like this, the lines of worry and time smoothed out, his face and body relaxed.   James wrapped an arm around Robbie’s waist and snuggled closer; if he couldn’t watch him, he could feel him.   
  
Gentle kisses woke James next.   
  
“Morning, sleeping beauty.”  Robbie smiled down sleepily at him.  “Sleep well?”  
  
“Mmm hmm.”  James rolled lazily onto his back, began to stretch and stopped, pulling his knees up with a low, aching groan.  
  
Robbie’s smile faded to concern, the first lines creasing his brow.  “Oh, God, I’ve hurt you.”  
  
“You didn’t hurt me.”  James was quick to soothe, he’d expected to feel this; after all, these were muscles he hadn’t used in a while.  “I ache, yes, but you didn’t hurt me.”  Robbie’s eyes told James that he wasn’t convinced.  Laying a hand against Robbie’s cheek, James asked, “And exactly how’s your back this morning?  No twinges, no aches?”   
  
Robbie nodded his understanding.  “I expected worse.  I _really_ didn’t hurt you?”   
  
“I haven’t used those muscles for a long time.  Practice makes perfect though; my body will adapt to yours and yours to mine.”  James tugged Robbie’s head down and kissed him softly and drowsily, cradling the back of his head.  “And you’re bloody magnificent when you’re hard,” James growled into Robbie’s mouth.  “Had I known what you were concealing...”  Robbie deepened the kiss, swallowing James’s words.  
  
James, using the leverage of his bent legs, pushed hard against the mattress, rolling Robbie onto his back.  He lay against Robbie’s chest, arms and legs loosely wrapped around him, his limp cock resting against Robbie’s thigh.  “Sleep now?” he murmured.  
  
Robbie’s silent laughter bounced him around.  Propping himself up on his arms, hanging over Robbie, he frowned and waited.  
  
“It’s after nine, pet.  We can’t stay in bed all day, even if we don’t have to be in at work.”  He smiled indulgently at James and rubbed his hands over James’s waist and hips, coming to rest on his arse.  
  
“Keep that up, and I’ll make you change your mind.”  James’s eyes had darkened and the top of his chest was beginning to flush.   
  
Robbie chuckled.  “Reckon you’re up for a shower?”  
  
James rolled off Robbie and stood up carefully beside the bed, smiling wickedly.  “You may have to help me.  Why are you still lying there?”

 

*****

 

Robbie’s shower was just big enough for two, and the hot water plentiful.  James’s hands kept his chest off the cold tiles as Robbie tenderly soaped up and massaged his back, from his shoulders to his arse and the top of his thighs.  He gently washed between James’s arse cheeks, watching his body for any sign of discomfort.  A light tug on his elbow turned James around.  The sight of him made Robbie gasp.  His eyes were dark, pupils wide despite the light, his chest and throat were flush and his cock stood rigid and tall.   
  
James’s eyes closed and his mouth fell open as Robbie took him in hand, slipping his other arm around James’s waist to hold him steady.  James dropped his head to Robbie’s shoulder, one hand coming to rest on the other.  He chuckled filthily at Robbie’s startled cry as his fist wrapped around Robbie’s hardening cock and he began to stroke in time with him.   
  
Robbie looked down between their bodies.  Sensations coursed through him with each stroke, James’s thumb teasing the head of his cock.  He was in his body and not in his body.  He was aware of every nerve jolt but felt as though he was watching from afar.  As James’s fist moved faster, Robbie matched him.  This was lust, pure and simple.  
  
Robbie felt James’s hand dig into his shoulder mere seconds before he watched James jerk into his fist and spill over his hand.  With his own orgasm roaring in, Robbie’s hand stuttered and he thought he felt James’s teeth against his collarbone.  He was past caring; with a deep grunt he felt his cock pulsing in James’s grip, wave after wave of heat racing through him.  He rocked to one side, oblivious to the cold tiles against his arm, grateful to remain on his feet as he surrendered himself to the moment.  
  
James mumbled, his words spoken to Robbie’s shoulder.  Breathing more slowly, and more than a little concerned James could drown under the stream of water, Robbie nudged his chin with his shoulder and stretched to turn off the taps.  He looked at James, eyes glazed and sleepy.   
  
“M’sorry,” James mumbled, dropping his eyes.  
  
“Sorry?”  Robbie huffed softly.  “That was bloody brilliant, James, what are you sorry for?”  He gently lifted James’s chin when he didn’t speak.  James looked away.  
  
“We should get out now,” James said quietly.  “Before it gets too cold.”  
  
“Okay.”  Robbie was worried about James; he couldn’t think for the life of him what had happened to change his mood so quickly.  He handed him a towel and watched as he dried himself off and avoided looking at Robbie.  As the steam cleared, Robbie caught his reflection in the mirror and understood.  He _had_ felt James’s teeth.  As he moved closer to the mirror he heard James’s quiet pained moan and whispered, “I’m sorry”.  Tiny spots of blood oozed where James had broken the skin, and the bruise was blooming as Robbie watched in amazement.  
  
“Come here,” he said kindly, reaching out a hand to James.  James moved forward cautiously, like a frightened puppy expecting to be scolded.  Robbie pulled him to his chest and stroked his back.  “You’re a possessive little bugger aren’t you?  Making a claim like that.”  He laughed softly against James’s body.  
  
“It wasn’t meant to be a...  You’re not angry?  I bit you, for God’s sake.”  James was understandably confused but still began to relax.  
  
“I’m stunned more than anything, love.  Didn’t think you had that in you.  What else don’t I know about the passions of James Hathaway, eh?”  
  
James snorted, his balance slowly returning.  “I have _no_ idea.  I’ve never bitten anyone during sex before.  Scared the shit out of me when I saw the marks.”  
  
Robbie kissed him to reassure him.  “Let’s figure you out together then.  After breakfast though.  It’s getting a bit cool in here now and I’m starving.”  
  
James grinned and snuggled into Robbie’s neck.  “Again?  Just fed one appetite and you’re hungry already?”  
  
“Gotta keep me strength up to keep up with you, bonny lad.”

 

*****

 

An in-depth hunt through the fridge and pantry produced egg and beans on toast.   
  
“James, will you sit down and eat before it gets cold?”  James finally came to the table with his notepad and pen.  “What have you got those for?”   
  
“We have to get groceries.  I’m not living on beans.”  James lowered himself carefully into the chair.  
  
Robbie winced.  “That bad?”  
  
“Actually, it’s not bad at all.”  James looked relieved.  “Just being careful.  Should be fine tomorrow, unless you want...  tonight...”  
  
Robbie looked concerned.  “If you’re going to have to be that careful how you move, then we’re going to have to give some thought to when we...”  He wavered.  
  
“Have rumpy-pumpy?”  James offered  
  
“Aye, that.  And we’ve work tomorrow.  Won’t do to have people asking awkward questions or jumping to quite possibly correct conclusions.”   
  
“It’ll be less of a consideration the more we do it, have... penetrative sex.”  James kept his eyes down, focused on his plate and shopping list.  He wasn’t a prude, but he felt awkward talking about this over the breakfast table.  It would have been a much easier conversation in bed, but James knew that, if he didn’t say something now, it could be a while before Robbie relaxed enough to fuck him again.  And he didn’t want to have to wait.  “It’s like taking up a new sport or exercise routine; the first few times are all about discovering muscles you didn’t know you had, but with repeated practice the body adjusts and it becomes normal.”  
  
“But we’ll still have to careful until then.”  Robbie sounded less uncertain.  “Can you imagine Laura? _‘Why’s James walking around like John Wayne?’_ ”  
  
James nearly choked on a mouthful of beans.

*****

 

Robbie’s phone rang as they preparing to go for groceries; James’s list was extensive.  
  
“Innocent.”  Robbie hesitated, looking at James.  This could not be good.  James sat down to listen.  
  
“Lewis.”  
  
Innocent got to the heart of matter.  “Robbie, it’s been brought to my attention that Hathaway’s unwell.  With so many still on leave, I can’t afford to have any more officers falling ill.  Rather than risk spreading whatever he’s got, I’d like James to stay away from station until at least Monday.  As his Governor, if you feel he’s up to it, rather than putting him on leave I’d like you to have him to review cold case files at home.  I’ll be taking you both off the rotation until at least Monday as well.  How is James?”  
  
“Who told you he was sick, Ma’am?”  Robbie was baffled.  Neither he nor Hathaway had called anyone; James being sick was only ever going to be used to get them out of any trouble.  
  
Robbie could hear Innocent roll her eyes.  “At least nine people who saw the two of you racing out of Laura’s last night just after midnight.  According to them, Hathaway was scarlet, sweating and hyperventilating, and you were as pale as a ghost and looked slightly panicked.”  Robbie cringed, grateful Innocent couldn’t see him; it was a bloody accurate description since James _had_ been fully aroused and Robbie in flap about being stopped and having to explain James.  “So – how _is_ James?”  
  
“Nothing fluids, rest and staying in bed won’t fix, Ma’am.  He should be able to manage a few files.  I’ll collect them myself tomorrow and drop them off.”  James was listening to Robbie’s side of the conversation and cocked his head in a question.  Robbie mouthed, “In a minute.”  
  
“They’ll be ready this afternoon if you want to collect them then, and you’ll drop yourself off with the files, Inspector.  If James is sick you’re probably carrying around whatever he’s got; I’d rather miss the two of you for a few days than lose half a dozen others.  I’ll arrange for the boxes to be left with the duty sergeant, that way you won’t have to go through the station at all.  You do both still know your secure logins, I trust?”  
  
“Yes, Ma’am.  No need to call James, Ma’am, I’ll let him know what’s happening.  Goodbye. Ma’am.  And thank you.”  
  
Robbie turned to James.  “Looks like we may have some time after all.” 

 

*****

 

James considered Innocent’s orders.  “We should set up here; I don’t have a decent table and we can’t both hunch over my coffee table.  I like your flat better anyway.”  
  
“Right,” Robbie decided firmly.  “Can’t sit around here all day.  You’re supposed to be sick so you can’t be seen wandering around the supermarket, _and_ I have to collect the bloody files.”  He reached for his keys.  
  
“Could you drop me at mine on the way?”  James jumped up.  “I should get my laptop and... there’s a few other things I’d like to pick up.  Clothes and such.  If I’m going to be here until Monday.”  James grinned.  “I _am_ staying here until Monday, aren’t I?”  
  
“You’d better.”  Robbie kissed him quickly.  “I’m not running back an’ forth ferrying you around, and I’m not spending the best part of a week without you in my bed.  C’mon, get your coat.  Sooner we get everything back here, the sooner we can relax.”

*****

 

James sorted through clothes, books and music.  There was little else to worry about.  He’d never been a souvenir collector and as for photographs, he’d only ever had two which he’d since given away.  Sadie McEwan had been grateful for the one of James and Will; and Father Andrew was speechless when James had given him the framed photograph of his niece with him.  It had been taken in Cambridge just weeks before the car accident that stole her away and James had only connected her to Father Andrew a year ago.  Any images from his childhood were lost and unmourned.  
  
Robbie entered the flat.  Spotting the large suitcase by the door, he asked, “How many clothes do you need for a week of...”  He paused as he caught sight of the carrier bags lined up along the wall.  “What’s all this then?”  
  
“Well, I thought... we won’t be working the _whole_ time, and while I’m hoping we’ll be... in bed... quite a bit...”  James blushed and focused his attention on the bags.  “I was thinking about something you said, and... I spend quite a bit of time at your flat now and, with things as they are, I thought...”  James hesitated.  “It’s stuff I’d like to keep at your flat, if that’s okay with you, things I think I might need – books and music mostly.”  James bit his bottom lip.  
  
“Makes sense.”  Robbie nodded.  “How much room do you think you’ll need for your clothes?  I’ll have to clear some space for you.”   
  
“It’s okay?”  James still looked uncertain.  
  
Robbie held his arms out and James stepped into them, slipping his arms around Robbie’s waist.  “James, love, bring whatever you need.  There’ll be room, and if not we’ll make it.”  He kissed James gently.  “Let’s get your stuff back and get you settled in.”

 

*****

 

Robbie came through the front door, weighed down with the last bags of shopping and a slowly compacting box of files.  
  
“Give us a hand, will you, love?  The arse is ready to fall out of this box as well.”  
  
James added the box to the two sitting next to the coffee table.  Cold cases, just as Innocent promised, though he was staggered by how many she expected them to get through in a few days.  
  
Relieved of his load, Robbie gratefully took the cup of tea James offered him, and James returned to putting the shopping away.   
  
“You should have let me help you with the boxes.”  James scowled at Robbie..   
  
“I didn’t know they were going to start collapsing on me.  Anyway, you had your suitcase and all the other bags; and one of us had to make the tea and you called ‘tails’.”  Robbie started playing with an empty bag on the bench.  “Besides, you’re still walking a little... cowboyish.”  
  
James looked at him incredulously.  “It may have escaped your notice but I generally carry items with my arms and hands, occasionally my chin, but never, ever my arse.”  He stepped up behind a flustered Robbie and wrapped himself around his waist.  “But thank you for your concern.”  His lips grazed Robbie’s neck, making him shiver and sigh.  
  
“Oi, enough of that you, we still have to find a home for your gear.”  Robbie tried to wriggle away but James held firm.  “Let me have my tea and then we can sort out the wardrobe and drawers, yeah?”   
  
Reluctantly, James let go.

 

*****

 

“When?”  
  
“When what?”  Robbie raised his head slowly to look at James.  
  
“When can we live together?  Last night you said, ‘if we’re going to consider living together at some point’ – how do we make that a reality?”   James looked determinedly at Robbie.  
  
Robbie sighed and closed the file in front of him.   
  
After dinner neither had felt like telly, and James knew Robbie had declared him – and sex – off-limits for tonight.  That left them with the cold case files.  James had been quietly sighing and huffing off and on, and at first Robbie thought it was because he was annoyed that Robbie was keeping his distance; he suspected it was something else entirely when, two hours later, despite being less than an arms-length away, James hadn’t tried to initiate contact.  
  
“And that’s connected to the file you’re reading, how?”  
  
James dropped the file on the table and stretched back in his chair.  He scrubbed at his face wearily.  “It isn’t.  Not really.  But these files are full of people with unfulfilled dreams – _we’d planned to, we were going to, we hoped, we’d always wanted to_ – I don’t want that to be us.”  
  
Robbie looked at him for a long moment before pushing his file towards James.  “Put them away.  I’ll make us some tea.”  He headed for the kitchen.  “I don’t want that to be our story either.”  
  
They settled on the couch with a pot of strong tea and a packet of Hob Nobs on the coffee table; James brought over his laptop.  
  
Robbie nodded at the laptop.  “Why’ve you got that?”  
  
“In case we need to look anything up – regulations, legislation, procedures, forms.”  
  
“Ah.  Thinking ahead, as usual.  Well done.”  
  
Robbie had been giving this some thought since Christmas, when it had become clear they had a future together, and started off.  “First thing you have to bear in mind is what’ll happen when we do move in together.  As long as we’re both still working at the station, one or both of us is going to have to register a change of address, depending on who moves where.  Someone in Human Resources is going to pick up on that sooner or later and file a report with Innocent.”  He raised a hand to stall James’s interruption.  “It goes against all the rules and regulations and they’re obliged to.  And then you can bet Innocent’ll have something to say about not being told and having to find out through channels.  Only way to avoid that is to tell her directly which means everything starts to happen from the day she’s told.  Regardless of when and how it happens, end story is that our professional partnership will ultimately be split.  I don’t want another Sergeant at this stage, not when I‘m getting ready to retire, and are you ready to break in another DI or DCI?”  
  
  
  
James was shaking his head.  That Robbie had thought about this didn’t surprise him.  “I once said ‘If you go, I go’.  I haven’t changed my mind – you leave the Oxfordshire constabulary, I’m right behind you.  At the moment my options are fighting for a research post, working as a waiter, or in a pub behind the bar – whatever brings in an income.  I’ve thought about asking Innocent if she’d recommend me for a training post.  I know it’s still the force, but it would be regular hours and I could be home for dinner every night and still be helping to make a difference.  It’s not quite academia but it could be a reasonable stop-gap until something else came up.”  
  
Robbie studied James carefully.  “A training post’s not a bad idea – if it’s what your heart wants.”   
  
“I have what my heart wants.”  James took Robbie’s hand between his own.  “The rest is all about a roof over our heads, paying the bills and eating.”  
  
“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?”  
  
“Ever since Lyn was pregnant with Thom and I thought you’d be leaving then.” James ducked his head.  “That’s one of several different plans I had depending on when, how and where you went.”  
  
“Even in the training centres you’d still have to deal with bigots and antiquated attitudes, you know that?”  
  
“I’d still have to deal with it in academia, depending on the College.  Only the degree would vary, if you’ll pardon the pun.  At least in the training centres I’m not ‘in the public eye’ – makes everyone breathe a little easier.”   
  
Robbie turned towards James, moving closer.  “Why don’t you apply to do post-graduate study?  You talked about it once before; you’re a smart lad, you should use what you have, make a career change.  I think you’d be happier.”  
  
“I probably would, but post-grad study needs money, it doesn’t necessarily bring money in; even if I could get a scholarship or some sort of grant I’d probably still need to pick up a few hours work somewhere.”  James looked fondly at Robbie.  “I couldn’t let you support me.  And even if you did manage to convince me, I suspect we’d struggle on your pension.”  The thunderous scowl on Robbie’s face made James sit back.  
  
“What if I wanted to support you, emotionally and financially?  I supported a wife and two kiddies on a Sergeant’s income.  Val didn’t go back into the workforce until Mark was eight, and even then it was part-time.  I was proud to do it, and I’d be proud to stand behind you.”  
  
“I didn’t mean...” James stammered defensively.  “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, but this, us, this is different.  Val was your _wife_ , you made a vow, you were keeping that vow.”  
  
There were tears in Robbie’s eyes as cradled James’s cheek, “You daft sod,” he whispered.  “It took me seven years to see who was by my side.  One day, James Hathaway, I want to make a vow to you too, and I will be as true to you as I was to Val.  I love you.  I want to be with you, support you, and see you be the best you can be.  Let me, love.”  
  
James leant into Robbie’s hand as a silent tear slipped down his cheek, his smile revealing his joy.  Robbie drew him forward, meeting him half-way with a deep kiss before James wrapped himself around Robbie.  
  
They sat quietly in each other’s embrace, their breathing the only sound as James let Robbie’s words wrap softly around him also.  His mother had been the last person to say ‘I love you’ to him, when he was very young.  He couldn’t remember her voice, only that he had been lying on the bed next to her, her skin clammy and grey; he’d never expected to hear those words said to him again, and certainly not with such devotion.  Robbie gently stroked his back and placed soft kisses where he could reach on James’s forehead and cheek.  James turned his head, seeking Robbie’s lips, and he smiled as Robbie responded eagerly.  
  
“Are we good again?”  Robbie murmured.  James nodded and kissed him once more.  “So will you think about studying?  We wouldn’t have to get by on just my pension and you wouldn’t have to work part-time either.”  
  
James blinked, puzzled.  “Do you have some fortune stashed away somewhere, or an anonymous benefactor?”  
  
“Not quite, no.”  Robbie pushed himself upright, having slumped as James lay against him, forcing James to sit up.  
  
  
  
For the first time since he’d told Val, Robbie spoke about his inheritance from Morse.   
  
“I’ve still got more than half of it left.  Val and I used half towards our mortgage and agreed to keep the other half for when I retired.  It’s been sitting in an investment account over twelve years.”  
  
“How mu– ” James stuttered, “No, none of my business.”  
  
“How much is in there?”  James nodded, embarrassed.  “It is your business now, pet; it’s your future too.”  Robbie waited while James absorbed the information.  “Truth is, I’m not sure.  There was £50,000 when we put it in the account.”   
  
“Fifty thou– ” James’s jaw hung loosely.  “That’s...”  
  
“It’s ours.  I meant what I said about making a vow to you – marrying you.  And I know it’s a civil partnership, so don’t get all smart arse on me – one day it’ll be a marriage.  But whatever it’s called we can do it – if you want.  If you don’t, that’s fine too; I’ll not love you any less for want of a piece of paper.”  
  
James held Robbie’s chin so he had to hold James’s gaze.  “Are you proposing to me, Robbie Lewis?” James whispered.  
  
Robbie swallowed and considered his answer.  “No.  Not yet, anyway.  I just wanted you to know that that’s what I’m thinking, what I’d like us to do eventually, if you want to.  But we’ve your future career, and my retirement, and where we’ll live to get sorted first, and then we can look at it, but only if you want to.”  Aware he was beginning to ramble, Robbie bit at his bottom lip to stop himself.  
  
James’s face was unreadable and Robbie felt a cold tendril of panic around his heart.  Then James smiled a slow, happy smile.  “Oh, I do want to, very much.”  
  
Robbie lightly stroked James’s cheek with his fingertips.  “S’getting late, bonny lad, and I’ve had a change of heart.  What d’you say?  Time for bed?”  
  
*  
  
“So, are you any closer to knowing what’s going to happen?” asked Robbie, lazily kissing the line of James’s collar bone.  
  
“Yesssss.”  James hissed softly, and arched his back as Robbie found his nipples with tongue, teeth and fingers, the sensation going straight to his cock.  “You’re going to retire.  And I’m going to apply for post-grad study.  Once I know what, when and where, you can set a retirement date and we can decide where we’re going to live.  Then we get married.  In the meanwhile we only need to be discreet in _pub- **lic**_.”  His voice rose to almost a shout as Robbie began to stroke his cock.  “Nothing else we do has to change.”  James was beginning to pant as Robbie’s fist moved quicker, with long, firm strokes, and he continued to tease James’s nipples.  “We are who we _ah-are_ and how we interact, how we do our job, hasn’t bothered anyone for the past seven years, ca- _ah_ -n’t see why it should now.”  
  
“I knew you were a smart lad the first time I met you.”  Robbie’s lips brushed up the side of James’s neck as he felt him nearing the edge.  “Now be quiet and kiss me.”

*****

 

The following morning, while Robbie ploughed on through the cold case files, and deflected well meaning but ultimately nosey calls from Laura and Innocent, James researched his post-graduate options.   
  
“Think you can spread out any further?”  Robbie shoved some papers aside to put a mug of tea down. “Where’d all this lot come from anyway?”  
  
James looked up guiltily.  “I started looking into it a while back, while I was ‘researching my options’; I may have picked up a bit of reading along the way, made a few notes.”  
  
“You look like you’ve written a bloody thesis.”  Robbie sat down next to him.  “Do you have a plan, then?”  
  
James nodded.  “I’d like to stay in Oxford; Cambridge has too many memories, not all of them good, and I left some angry people behind.  Cardiff and Edinburgh were possibilities too, but the cons outweigh the pros.  Now it’s about which direction will give the best options – teaching, social work, research design and methodology...”  James sighed.  
  
“I’ll leave you to it then, lad.”  Robbie squeezed James’s shoulder and, with a heavy sigh of his own, stood up and went back to the waiting box of files.  
  
*  
  
Robbie had stopped reading a while ago.  James had begun typing furiously, muttering under his breath as he did.  Every now and again he’d stop and rifle through the clutter on the coffee table, separating various documents and papers and piling them together, his brow creased in concentration – or possibly worry, Robbie couldn’t quite tell from this angle.  He jumped when James leapt up from his chair, the bundle of gathered papers in his hand.   
  
“Can I have your keys please?  I need to go to the flat to scan these.”   
  
Robbie pointed to where they sat on a side table.  Without another word, James was gone.  Robbie blinked and laughed to himself.  When James was determined on a course of action there was little you could do to stop him.  Robbie blushed when he realised he was thinking about the various ways he could turn that tenacity to his benefit in the bedroom.  
  
*  
  
James had been gone nearly two hours, and Robbie was beginning get worried, when he heard the front door open.  James dropped the keys back on the side table and, inserting a USB drive, set to work on the laptop again without a word.  It was mid-afternoon, and even though they’d missed lunch, Robbie knew it would be pointless putting food down in front of James when he was so focused.  He made them both tea instead, and sat back and waited.  He frowned curiously when James dug out his wallet, but was relieved when James eventually settled back against the couch with a small, satisfied, if nervous, smile.  
  
“That you done?”  Robbie ventured.   
  
James looked up with a jerk, as though surprised to see Robbie in the room.  “Yes.  Applications complete, fees paid, all required attachments and references included.”  He relaxed a little more.  “Now the wait begins.”  
  
“What did you de–  _References?_ ”  James hadn’t asked him for a reference, and he certainly hadn’t had time to get someone to write one for him today.  
  
James took a deep breath.  “I’ve sent two applications.  I’d rather not tell you what they are until – if – I get a letter of acceptance.  Until then...”  He made a zipping motion across his lips.  “I’m not usually superstitious, but I don’t want to jeopardise this.”  
  
“ _References?_ ”  Robbie repeated.  
  
“Ah, yes, essential for post-grad applications.”  James rubbed his hands nervously over his face.  “I, ah, a few months back, after _that_ abuse case...”  
  
Robbie grimaced; four kiddies at the mercy of their meth-addicted parents and two dead.  He thought he’d lost James then and had been surprised at how he’d rallied.   
  
“...I had a... crisis – hell, you know that.  I was ready to chuck it all and run and I approached Father Andrew and... _someone else..._ for references.  The second owed me a favour and I explained I was considering leaving the force and would they help.”  James gave a dismissive snort.  “They seemed rather pleased at the idea of my leaving.  I think they’re rather pissed off that I’m still here.  Please don’t ask me who,” he added hurriedly.  “The only thing that stopped me bolting then was you, and the unspoken promise of us.”  
  
Robbie gazed fondly at the trust and love in James’s eyes.  
  
“Anyway,” James continued, “They’re less than six months old and should be quite acceptable.”  He huffed a laugh.  “I’d like to see the reaction on her face when she reads my email advising her I’ve finally used the reference.”  
  
 _She?_   Robbie could think of three possible women who might fit the description, but he was sure neither Innocent nor Laura would be overjoyed to see James leave, and he doubted James held any sway over the Chief Constable.  _Professor Pinnock, perhaps?  Though surely one would have to be a work referee?_   _The Chief Constable?  No.  Surely not?_   Robbie decided he didn’t want to know.  
  
“Any idea when you’ll find out?”  Now that James had set the ball in motion, Robbie was aware how impatient he was to get things rolling too.  
  
James shook his head.  
  
They’d just have to wait.

 


	8. Be My Valentine

“Laura’s persistent, isn’t she?”  James slumped over the steering wheel as Robbie settled in the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt.  The weak early February sun had done nothing to warm the interior and he shivered.  
  
“Well if you hadn’t loosened your collar in the morgue she wouldn’t have seen the bruise.”  Robbie scolded him gently.  “What did you tell her in the end?  She was looking at you as though you were full of shit.”   
  
James looked at him wickedly.  “I told her you gave me a love bite to pay me back for the one I gave you – only you were kind enough not to draw blood.”  
  
Robbie stared in horror.  “Bloody hell, man, you never?”  
  
“I really think she believed me until I mentioned blood,” said James thoughtfully.  
  
“No, really, what did you tell her?”  Robbie stared into James’s eyes and groaned.  “Oh, Christ, you really did.”  He drew his hand down over his face, resting it over his mouth and chin.  “And how in blazes am I supposed to look her in the eye now, knowing she knows that?”  It came out as a plea; he was too dumbfounded to growl at James.  
  
“Same as always, _sir_ ,” James said calmly.  “You said it yourself; she thought I was full of shit.”  
  
Robbie let out a huge sigh.  “You might have got away with it this time – I hope – but we need to be more careful.  Until we’ve got some solid timing we can’t afford for Innocent – or anyone – to get wind of us.  I really don’t want to break in a new Sergeant – took you two years to get me coffee right.”  
  
James snorted.  “I suppose I deserved that for calling you ‘sir’.”  
  
*  
  
They were staying at James’s tonight and swung by Robbie’s so he could change, collect his mail, and check on the cat.  His neighbour had had a fall and was in hospital, and Robbie had taken the cat in; she’d wrapped him around her paw in a day or so.   
  
“Was thinking it might be nice to get a cat of our own one day,” Robbie proposed as he emptied the tuna and sardines onto the plate.  “How’d you feel about that?”  
  
James glared at the cat.  “As long as you can find one that doesn’t yowl like the devil at closed doors, and won’t claw and bite at my arse when I’m having my wicked way with you.”  Robbie snorted at the discontent in James’s voice.  
  
“Oh, it’s all right for you,” snapped James.  “She leaves you alone when you top.  As soon as I get you on your back, she’s on mine.  Be a bloody relief when...  oh, _stop it!_ ”  
  
Robbie was shaking with laughter, tears rolling down his cheeks.  
  
“Honestly Robbie, it’s not funny.  I’ve got bloody claw marks all over my arse.”  James was close to pouting and that set Robbie off again.  
  
“I’m sorry, James,” he gasped as he worked to calm himself down.  “Mrs Penn’s not due home for at least another week, maybe longer.  When Salome’s gone I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”  
  
“That day can’t come soon enough; you’ve got a lot of making up to do and I have some... creative... ideas.”  He felt a small thrill of satisfaction when Robbie blushed.  
  
*  
  
Inside his own flat, James dropped the mail on the bench and went to get changed; Robbie started to take the dinner ingredients out of the fridge.  Cooking for two definitely had its benefits; not only were they more inclined to want to cook, they were eating far healthier and cheaper as takeaways and pub meals had become a weekly treat rather than their staple diet.  Robbie had lost weight and James had gained some colour, a fact not lost on many of the women at work.   
  
“Do you want to tell them they’re wasting their time, or would you like me to?” James had quipped, after yet another unconcealed appraising look had been cast in their direction.  
  
The crest on the top letter of the pile caught Robbie’s eye.  “James,” he called through.  “You might want to check your mail.  Now.  Before I do.”  
  
James wandered into the kitchen, pulling his hoodie over his face as he did.  Picking up the pile of mail, his face blanched when he saw what Robbie had noticed.  
  
He tore the letter open; Robbie could see James’s hands shaking.  Robbie placed his palms flat on the bench and waited as James read the letter.  James’s eyes darted across the page and he studied the two other sheets, concentration creasing his forehead.  He walked slowly to the couch and sat down.  A smile lit his face.  
  
“I’ve got an interview in two weeks time.”  The wonder in his voice was unmistakeable; however, Robbie didn’t grasp the significance.  
  
“An interview where and what does that mean exactly?”  
  
“At the School of Education; my application was successful.”  James couldn’t tear his eyes away from the letter.  
  
Robbie took a moment to process.  “You’re in then?  University?  Your post-grad?  You start in Michaelmas Term?”  
  
“As long as I pass the interview, yes.”  
  
“And will you?”  
  
“I generally do very well in interviews.”  He wasn’t cocky or boastful: it was a simple statement of fact.  “And this letter outlines what’s involved and what I have to do.  I’m very good at following instructions.”  
  
Robbie snorted softly.  “When you want to,” he murmured to himself.  “Then why do you look so stunned?” he asked a little louder.  
  
“I applied late, very late.  I expected to be told the course was full and to reapply in October, or that I didn’t meet the criteria and ‘please reapply’.”  He looked up at Robbie in amazement and joy.  “You know what this means?”  
  
“Aye, love, it means we can plan the rest of our lives.”  
  
*  
  
Over dinner they talked about James’s decision to teach.  
  
“You reckon you can handle a room full of stroppy teenagers?  The criminal class is one thing; teenagers are a species unto themselves.”  Robbie was only half teasing.  Mark and Lyn had both been a handful, but some of the kids out there today made Robbie shudder.  
  
“I’d like to teach primary school, particularly disadvantaged kids where there’s the possibility of making a difference, of steering them toward a brighter future.”  James was reflective.  “The other course I applied for was Social Work; I got the ‘we’re full, reapply in October’ letter last week.”  
  
“Ah.”  Robbie nodded.  “And you expected this letter to be the same?”  
  
James smiled.  “It won’t be completely straightforward.  I’ll have to do a couple of science units as well, to shore up weak areas – don’t laugh – but it’s nothing I can’t manage.  My study load at Cambridge was pretty heavy, and I tackled that without having the comfort of someone to come home to at the end of the day.”  
  
“It may be _because_ you didn’t have someone to come home to that you got through it.”  Robbie reached across and caressed James’s cheek.  “It can be hard when you have to factor in another person’s needs and wants, and the ‘distractions’ that go along with that.”  
  
“I’ll manage.”  James smiled.  “ _We’ll_ manage.”  
  
*  
  
Robbie rested his head back against the couch and stroked James’s back as he lay against his chest.  “So, love, since we’re definitely staying in Oxford...”  
  
James, who had straddled Robbie’s lap as soon as he’d sat on the couch, sat back against Robbie’s thighs, admiring his kiss-swollen lips and extensive beard rash.  “I still have the interview to pass...”   
  
“I have faith in you.”  Robbie cradled James’s head between his hands to delay his kisses.  “Since we’re staying in Oxford, we’d better start looking for a place to stay; my lease is up at the end of March, so it makes sense.”  
  
“Do we have to start looking right now?  It was getting interesting.”  James traced the outline of Robbie’s erection with his fingertip, smiling hungrily at Robbie’s sighs.  
  
“No, not right now,” Robbie murmured expectantly, as James slid off his lap and made quick work of opening Robbie’s jeans and freeing his cock.  “The listings’ll still be there...”  Words vanished as James swallowed him down.  
  
*  
  
Robbie’s head rested against James’s shoulder as James quickly navigated around the various estate agents websites.  James still wore a small, smug smile, having brought Robbie to the point of begging before tipping him over the edge with an orgasm that left him breathless and limp against the couch.  James had tenderly cleaned and tidied Robbie up, and he had fallen into a deep sleep, curled up with his head in James’s lap.  He’d woken up ten minutes earlier and was still a little disoriented.  
  
“I’ve narrowed this to three possible options, all available mid to late March,” James explained.  
  
“Mmmm.”  It was the most Robbie had uttered since he woke and James’s smile grew a little wider.  
  
James’s fingers flickered over the touchpad and Robbie’s eyes vaguely followed various drop-down menus as James saved his search, moved to another website, and repeated the process.  
  
“So how many places is that you’ve chosen then?”  
  
“Back in the land of the living, Robbie?”  He giggled when Robbie slapped his thigh.  “Six properties across three agents; one more to look at tonight and I can try and browse the others at work tomorrow.”  
  
“Okay.”  Robbie dropped his head back to James’s shoulder and fell asleep again.

*****

 

Valentine’s Day was fast approaching.  To mark their first acknowledged Valentine’s Day together they’d decided on dinner and exchanging gifts.  To Robbie’s bemusement, James had set down some rules for present buying.  
  
“Under £25 and non-consumable – and yes, that includes alcohol; it’s about the symbolism.  Apart from that, whatever you like.”  James had refused to accept any arguments, and before he could make any further suggestions, Robbie had declared dinner his decision.  
  
“If you’re going to set guidelines, I get to choose where we eat; be your choice next year.  Turn and turn about, that’s fair, isn’t it?”  
  
James had reluctantly agreed.  
  
James was unaware that Robbie had already made a booking, choosing a small restaurant off the Broad they’d discovered by accident one evening, not long after New Year.  Set up inside a converted shop, each table was discreetly and tastefully screened from its neighbour, providing intimate dining without the need for a torch to see your plate; the food was exquisite and the servings generous.  The cost made it prohibitive as a regular dining choice, but for special occasions it was perfect.  Robbie, so determined that nothing would go wrong, had confirmed the booking on at least eight occasions since then – twice James had nearly caught him – until the owner finally convinced him that it was secure.

 

*****

 

When Robbie stopped the alarm on the morning of 14 February he was surprised to see James standing by the window, wrapped in a blanket.   
  
“What’s so fascinating out there that you can’t keep me warm this morning?”  
  
“It’s stopped snowing and I do believe the sun is actually going to make an appearance.”  He crawled back under the duvet and wrapped himself around Robbie’s back.  “Happy Valentine’s Day, Robbie.”  
  
“Happy Valentine’s Day, pet.”  Robbie rolled over so he was facing James.  “You want your present now or after breakfast?”  
  
James looked thoughtful.  “After breakfast, like a mature adult, or now like an overeager child.  Wha–? Where are you going?”  Robbie had rolled away and had opened the drawer of the bedside table.  “Ah, Robbie, I don’t think we’ll have time for that...”  
  
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”  Robbie handed him a rectangular box wrapped in bright red paper.  
  
“Oh.”  James sat up and took the small parcel cautiously.  “But I hadn’t decided...”  
  
“You didn’t have to,” Robbie chided softly.  “Your eyes said ‘overeager child’, as did your silly grin.”  Robbie tapped the box in his hand.  “Well, go on.  Open it!”  
  
“Now who’s the overeager child?”  
  
James opened the box carefully – and burst out laughing.  “Oh, God, they’re perfect.  Oh, you have to open yours now.”  James rolled out of bed and quickly retrieved a small, silver-wrapped box from his jacket pocket.  It was almost identical in size.  
  
Robbie looked at it and weighed it in his hand.  “You haven’t...  Surely not?”  
  
“ _Open. It!_ ”  James was almost bouncing on the bed.  
  
“Okay, okay!”  Robbie was finding James’s mood infectious.  “I’d say keep your shirt on, but it’s too late for that.”  
  
Robbie looked inside the box, looked at James, and back at the box and burst out laughing.  “It’s all Innocent’s fault; she started the whole Dynamic Duo thing.”   
  
Robbie had given James Batman cufflinks and James had given Robbie a Batman tiebar.  
  
James smiled wickedly.  “We wear them to work.  Today.”  
  
“Even if I say no, you’ll keep at me until I give in for a bit of peace, won’t you?”  
  
James nodded, looking very pleased with himself.  
  
*  
  
James left the Porter under the watchful eye of the constable and wandered back into the room.  Laura was finishing up her examination of the body and Robbie was poking around the young man’s desk.   
  
He walked over as she came down the step-ladder.  “Is it what it looks like, Laura?”  Robbie never got used to suicides.  
  
“I’m afraid it is, Rob–”  She peered at his tie.  “Cute.”  She glanced over at James, who was paying a great deal of attention to the book shelf.  “I’ll give you a definitive answer this afternoon, but I’m fairly confident your expertise won’t be needed on this one.”  
  
James wandered over as Robbie gave a tight nod of the head.  “So there’s definitely no bruising under the rope.”  James pointed toward said rope.  “No indication he was strangled and then hung?”  
  
Laura started to give him a sarcastic response and noticed the cuff link, exposed as James stretched his arm out.  She tugged James’s arm down and lifted the end of Robbie’s tie.  
  
“Very cute, gentleman, what’s next?  Paint the Beamer black and ask the Desk Sergeant to communicate by searchlight?”  She looked from one to the other and waited for a response.  
  
They both stared at her blankly but Robbie could see an unmistakeable twitch at the corner of James’s mouth.  
  
“Right, James, if the good doctor says we’re not needed here, we’re not needed.  Cold cases await, let’s go.”  He pointed James towards the door, avoiding Laura’s eyes, but he couldn’t ignore the growl.  
  
“Robbie.”  
  
“It’s all your’s and Innocent’s fault.  She keeps calling us the Dynamic Duo, and you keep calling him me ‘other half‘.  You had to know it was going to come back an’ bite you one day.”  He walked out behind James without looking back.  
  
“That went well, don’t you think, Boy Wonder?” he murmured when he caught up with James.  
  
James was fighting a losing battle not to laugh.

 

*****

 

The restaurant was as they remembered it, and James was delighted to have been brought back.    
  
“How on earth did you get a table on such short notice?  Oh, hell. I don’t care.”  He beamed happily, and kissed Robbie thoroughly as soon as the waiter walked away, leaving them alone.   
  
Robbie passed James the wine list.  “Whatever you want, love.”  
  
James hesitated.   
  
“Show me.”   
  
James pointed out the wine he wanted; it was the third most expensive on the list and one he’d wanted to try for some time.  
  
Robbie called the waiter over without pause; James was staggered.   
  
“It’s once a year, pet.  Why shouldn’t we spoil ourselves?  For now it’s Valentine’s Day, but one year, and every year thereafter, it’ll be our anniversary, yeah?”  
  
James nodded, too happy to speak.  
  
*  
  
After the waiter had cleared the last of their plates, Robbie moved his chair closer to James.  James watched curiously as Robbie dug into his jacket pocket.  When he produced a small square box James stared at it, stunned, shaking his head.  
  
Robbie placed the box on the table and opened it.  Inside was a gold signet ring set with onyx and three diamonds either side.  Robbie’s hand shook slightly as he took it out and showed James the engraving on the inside of the band – _RL ~ JH ~ aeternum_.  
  
“I want people to know, James.  I want people to meet you, look at you, and know you have someone who loves you, who’s committed to you.  I’m tired of hiding what we have.  I’m fed up having to watch what I call you, and where and when I touch you.  I’ve had enough of being worried about the reactions of others.  We’ve got plans.  There’s money in the bank.  We’ve got a roof over our heads.  Let’s just do this.”   
  
James’s smile grew wider as slow tears rolled down his cheeks; he nodded, speechless.  Robbie lifted James’s left hand from where it sat trembling on the table.  He held the ring, between his fingers and presented it to James.  “James Hathaway, this is the symbol of my promise to you, a promise to be with you until the end.  No matter what.”  With a lightness of touch James had not expected, Robbie pushed the ring onto the third finger of his hand.  
  
Taking Robbie’s face between his hands, James kissed him, happy tears rolling unchecked down his cheeks.  
  
*  
  
They curled up together on the couch, having discarded shoes and jackets.  James had fetched a blanket from the cupboard which he’d draped over their laps.  He was wrapped snugly in Robbie’s embrace and kept turning the ring in the lamp light, watching how it played over the onyx and diamonds.  
  
“You like it then, pet?”  
  
“Oh, yes, very much.”  
  
“And it _was_ a surprise wasn’t it?  You weren’t expecting or hoping I’d...”  
  
“Not a clue.  When you first talked about... getting married... I thought it wouldn’t happen until after we were both out of the force.  I mean, now, when I wear this tomorrow, it’s going to raise questions – and it won’t just be Laura or Innocent.  The place is full of sharp-eyed people.”  
  
“True.  You could wear it on your other hand, until we‘re away from the place, or you could choose not to wear it at work; I’d understand.”  
  
James looked at him intently.  While Robbie said it would be all right to hide the ring and all it meant, his face said differently.   
  
Robbie continued, “Or we can tell Innocent tomorrow and deal with whatever happens.”   
  
James sat up properly, facing Robbie, “You’ve thought about this.”  It wasn’t a question.  “Tell me.  Please.”  
  
Robbie held James’s hand, playing with the ring as he spoke.  “There’s eight months until the academic year starts but you’ll want to finish up before then, give yourself a break and time to get organised, maybe resign at the end of August, or earlier, and I’ll retire at the same time.  So we’d really only be working another six months or so at most.  I suspect Innocent’ll think it’s too unsettling to match us with new partners only to have to rematch those two officers again a short time down the track.  Better to leave us as we are or split us and put us somewhere within the constabulary to bide our time.  They can’t make us leave – the law’s on our side there.  Who knows, she might send me off to the training centre for a bit like she wanted to when I first came back to Oxford.”  
  
“But I’ve still got to get through the interview yet.”  
  
“If you don’t, there’s always the next year.  I can still retire – make it a bit easier for you if you choose to stay on – and if you go ahead and resign anyway I’m sure you’ll find something to do until you get in.  We’ll manage, pet.”  Robbie spoke with quiet confidence.  
  
James considered what Robbie said.  He stared long and hard at the ring and back at Robbie.  He kissed Robbie quick and hard.  “I’m not taking this ring off.”  
  
“That’s decided, then.  We see Innocent first thing.”  He pulled James back to him gently and kissed him slowly and deeply.  “Let’s go to bed, my love.  Big day tomorrow.”  
  
In the bedroom they stripped each other, not wanting to waste time.  James swiftly took control; Salome was finally back with Mrs Penn, and James was eager to show Robbie some of those creative ideas he’d been saving up.  
  
Taking care to use his right hand, so the ring wouldn’t scratch Robbie, James swept up the pre-come off his and Robbie’s cocks and rubbed it over the top half of his middle finger.  He slid his slick finger over Robbie’s perineum and down to tease his opening.  He softly nipped and sucked the tender skin of Robbie’s neck and murmured, “My turn tonight I think.”   
  
Robbie groped for the bedside table, opening the drawer and fumbling unsighted for the lube and condoms.  He dropped them abruptly at his side as James’s finger found his prostate, and he let himself be carried away on a wave of pleasure. 

 

*****

 

As they walked into Innocent’s office, Robbie hoped his limp wasn’t too noticeable.  Drunk on emotion, and eager to participate in James’s inventive games, Robbie had been a bit too adventurous and managed to pull his hamstring; the last thing he wanted to do was limp out of Innocent’s office.  This meeting was going to be a big enough shock for her as it was, and he doubted she’d appreciate the additional mental image.  
  
James stood on Robbie’s right hand side, their arms brushing against each other.  
  
  
  
“Sit down, gentlemen, what can I do for you?”  Innocent dragged the last of the letters from her in-tray towards her, relieved to see the bottom.  
  
A long moment later, she looked up cautiously to see why neither of them had taken a seat or spoken.  She looked from Robbie to James and back again.  Instinct – her mother would have called it women’s intuition – told her the Dynamic Duo were about to make life very difficult for her, but what else was new?  
  
“Inspector?  Sergeant?  Could one of you please put me out of my misery?”  
  
James took hold of Robbie’s hand, the ring catching the light and Innocent’s immediate and full attention.  As recognition dawned, her eyes slowly drifted upwards, first to Robbie’s open, calm face, and across to James, who looked at peace with himself for the first time in all the years she’d known him.  James locked his gaze with hers.   
  
“Ma’am, will you do me the honour of being my maid of honour?”  
  


~~~~~~~~~~ _fin_ ~~~~~~~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Wilson and Brewster are two of the engine characters in Chuggington.
> 
> [This is the ring](http://www.24carat.co.uk/frame.php?url=ring5229secondhanddia006ctonyxsetin18ct.html) Robbie buys James; ok, not _the_ ring, but you get the idea.


End file.
